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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499648">Like Quiet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/di93/pseuds/di93'>di93</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everyone is trying to get Cullen and The Inquisitor to shack up, F/M, Fluff, Inquisitor would die for Dorian, Look I just want to romance Teagan and Varric, Minor Female Hawke/Varric Tethras - Freeform, Minor Surana Amell/Arl Teagan, Minor The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Mutual Pining, Rated E starting with chapter 27, Rated M starting with chapter 14, Romance, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved, art!, rating will change later, they are best friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:41:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>71,956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/di93/pseuds/di93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Haven, Catherine Trevelyan is convinced that it's not safe for her to be involved romantically. After all, she's already survived the Breach (Three Times!), being thrown through time, an archdemon, an ancient darkspawn magister, and an avalanche. Surely her luck wasn't going to last much longer, and she didn't have time for distractions or the energy to worry about what she would leave behind.</p><p>Still, that didn't mean she didn't have desires. Luckily, Skyhold's resident writer has started publishing a serial loosely - very loosely - based on her best friend and his new lover.</p><p>Cullen sees how Catherine is getting worn down, and thanks to some encouragement from their friends, he tries to do something about it thanks to a little inspiration from the dwarf's latest book. Anonymously, of course.</p><p>*Updates every other Monday, with extra updates every now and then</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>305</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964918">Midnight at Skyhold</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDanya/pseuds/LadyDanya">LadyDanya</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Skyhold was always filled to the brim with rumors and gossip, especially about the Inquisitor. Many were outlandish, several were plausible, and some were started by the Inquisition’s own spies. All, in Cullen’s opinion, were to be ignored.</p><p>However, Cullen was only a man, and occasionally one would catch his attention. Most of the time, it was because it seemed like it could be a threat to the Inquisitor’s safety. But occasionally, it would manage to distract him from his duties because of the conflict it stirred with his own—misplaced, misguided—feelings.</p><p>On this day, the rumor that had him glowering was one of the latter. Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the rumor of Catherine Trevelyn being involved with The Iron Bull, but the more he heard the rumor, the more it got under his skin.</p><p>She deserved to have someone, of course, and he was glad for that. If anyone should have someone to lean on in these times, it was her. Moreover, whatever relations she had with anyone, it was none of his business.</p><p>Knowing that logically, however, didn’t mean that he didn’t occasionally lament that he couldn’t be that person for her. He was just a man, and in the face of a beautiful, powerful, and kind woman like her, he couldn’t help developing a foolhardy attachment.</p><p>Still, he knew his place. She was the Inquisitor, the herald, his superior officer. And, as the steady stream of rumors in Skyhold suggested, she was very much taken.</p><p>So he would nurse his crush silently and alone at night, and during the day he would be her loyal advisor, nothing more, nothing less. At the very least, she deserved the best advice he could offer and the best military he could train.</p><p>Of course, in the few quiet moments, he would still occasionally be driven to distraction. This time, evidently, he was more distracted than usual as he walked from his office with a hand full of briefings which he intended to discuss with Cassandra. The fastest route to her usually took him past the tavern and down the stairs next to the infirmary. The evidence of his distraction manifested in the form of opening the door to the tower connected to the tavern only to get an eyeful of The Iron Bull and Dorian Pavus, very much in the middle of something best done behind closed—and preferably locked—doors.</p><p>Cullen’s first thought?</p><p>
  <em>The rumor isn’t true, then.</em>
</p><p>Cullen’s second thought managed to connect with his mouth as he stammered out an apology and turned on heel, deciding to take the less direct path to the Seeker. And to never, ever go that route again.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Catherine knew there were rumors about her and The Iron Bull. Mostly, she ignored them. After all, the two of them knew there was nothing to it, and what business was it of anyone else? Yes, they shared a tent in the field more often than not, but with the nightmares she had so often of Redcliffe, seeing Bull alive and not faintly glowing red made it easier for her to fall back asleep knowing that she still had time to prevent the horror of that future.</p><p>At least, that had been the case until she noticed Dorian eyeing the qunari when he thought no one else was looking. She loved Dorian. He was like the big brother she’d never really had. She had older brothers back in Ostwick, of course, but she hadn’t even heard from them for nearly two decades, ever since she was hauled off to the Circle. But Dorian would joke with her and argue with her and teach her and bother her, and she returned the favor. So when she saw his appreciative glances, she tried to step back and give the two of them some room to figure it out.</p><p>Then, when she overheard Bull talking about Dorian’s... undergarments, she was equal parts elated for her friend and also a little horrified that Bull would just broadcast it in such a way. She and Bull would have words, once they had a moment of privacy.</p><p>oOo</p><p>“So, Dorian.” Once they were back at Skyhold, Catherine cornered Bull before he could make it back to his usual haunt in the tavern.</p><p>“Yep!” Bull declared proudly, laughing, until he noticed her dark expression and then cleared his throat. “Yes, we’ve been spending time together.”</p><p>“You’re happy together, I take it?”</p><p>“Yeah, Dorian’s a sweet guy. He really cares under all that bluster.”</p><p>Catherine couldn’t help a small smile, breaking her serious expression briefly. “He is. So,” her glare returned. “If you hurt him, I’ll find the biggest pit of demons in Thedas and throw you in. Are we clear?”</p><p>“Yes, Boss,” he replied, a little anxiety in his shoulders, though she wasn’t entirely sure how much of that was real and how much he was affecting, but it satisfied her enough to drop her glare again.</p><p>“Good. I think the two of you will be good for each other,” she added with a genuine smile and reaching up to give his shoulder a pat before heading up to the library to talk to the other half of the relationship, not noticing the shudder go through Bull as she walked away.</p><p>“So, The Iron Bull, huh?” she asked Dorian with a mischievous smile once she arrived at the library. Dorian heaved a heavy sigh and his head lolled to the side a little as he closed his book, even as she noticed a hint of a smile on his lips.</p><p>“If only there were a single discreet bone in that lummox,” he lamented, and Catherine couldn’t help a little laugh as she sat down on the floor next to his chair, looking up at him with her head cradled in her hands, but when his face shaded with real concern, she dropped her smile. “Ehrm, do you really want to know? Is this official concern, or...”</p><p>“Maker, Dorian,” She said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’m your <em>friend</em>.” Then, with her smirk back and with overdramatic flair, “At least one of us should be having some fun.” As she hoped, that earned a small chuckle from Dorian as he relaxed again and she released his hand.</p><p>“If you really wanted, you know you could have half of your soldiers trailing after you, a line of them waiting outside your door every night.”</p><p>Catherine have a very unladylike snort of laughter at that before shaking her head. “And assassins lined up with them. No, thank you. Anyway, we’re supposed to be talking about you, Dorian. I thought this was your favorite subject. Now tell me, what’s going on?”</p><p>He heaved a sigh, but the small smile was back on his lips. “Well it’s something. A whole lot of <em>something</em>.” Catherine smiled and had her head resting in her hands again as she sat back to listen to Dorian talk about how <em>something</em>, as he’d apparently decided to call it, had started with The Iron Bull. “Now that I’ve said it out loud, by ancestors are officially turning over in their graves. Ah, well.”</p><p>Catherine snickered, but then let it drop as she looked at him earnestly. “Are you happy?”</p><p>Dorian opened and closed his mouth a couple times before looking away, clearly not expecting the question, or perhaps not knowing the answer. “It is... nice, I suppose.”</p><p>When it was clear that was all he was going to say, she tilted her head a little as she looked at him, wondering if that was all he wanted to say or all he felt like he <em>could</em>. “You know you can talk to me about any of this you want to, right? Anytime you want.”</p><p>“Yes, well, perhaps if I figure out what there even is to say about it, I will.”</p><p>Catherine smiled and then stood. “Alright. Then I should go to the war room,” she said, but before leaving, leaned over to kiss Dorian’s temple. “I just want you to be happy, Dorian.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Word of Dorian's relationship with The Iron Bull has spread, and thanks to Varric, was becoming the talk of Skyhold.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, Bull. You and Dorian?” Varric started as they waited for Catherine to finish talking to Corporal Rosselin after having rid the ramparts of demons and the undead. Evidently no amount of bodies or demons would keep a writer from his story.</p>
<p>“Mhm?”</p>
<p>“‘Two worlds tearing them apart, Tevinter and Qunari, with only love to keep them together.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see how this is even remotely your business, Varric!” Dorian tried to cut in, but the other two continued their conversation anyway.</p>
<p>“Can you make it sound angrier? ‘Love’ is a bit soft.”</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em> stop helping the dwarf.”</p>
<p>“How about ‘passion’?”</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s better. ‘Love’ is all starlight and gentle blushes. ‘Passion’ leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets.”</p>
<p>“You could have at least had the curtesy to use the bedposts,” Dorian grumbled, giving up his fight as Catherine returned to them.</p>
<p>“Hey, don’t top from the bottom.”</p>
<p>Varric laughed as he watched the Inquisitor approach. “Passion it is, then.”</p>
<p>Catherine looked around at the three and noticed Dorian’s flustered expression before glaring at Bull and then glancing back at the pits they had just cleared out. The qunari shuddered, suddenly remembering her threat and stopped encouraging the dwarf.</p>
<p>oOo</p>
<p>As it turned out, the damage was already done. A week after they returned to Skyhold, gleeful giggling could be heard from the second floor of the Herald’s Rest and the next evening at dinner, the first chapter of <em>Starlit Passion</em> was the talk of the keep—or at least, the loudest of them, thanks to the Ambassador and the Seeker both nearly vibrating with excitement. And when Catherine watched Dorian excuse himself early with a bottle of wine as he headed towards the library, Catherine rushed after him.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?”</p>
<p>Dorian sighed but didn’t look upset as he sat down, offering Catherine the bottle he brought. She took a drink from it, not the first time she’d drank straight from a bottle, and certainly not the last. “Oh, it’s fine. No one could even recognize who that drivel is based on. I have no idea how Varric ever managed to convince someone to sell the rubbish he writes.” Catherine chuckled, relieved, and handed the bottle back before taking up her seat on the floor. He’d offered to have another chair moved, a cushion added, something, but she didn’t mind the floor. It made the little nook of the library seem all the cozier and gave her the brief comfort of feeling like a person, rather than a figurehead. “Not that I’ll be telling Bull that. Let him think I’m upset for a while. I’ll just look forward to him trying to make it up to me later.”</p>
<p>Catherine threw her head back with a laugh and grinned at her friend. “You’re a devious one, Pavus.”</p>
<p>“Only in the best ways,” he said with a wink. “Besides, you enjoy it. Your life would be boring without me. I can’t imagine how you got on before.”</p>
<p>Her smile became a little more wistful as she hugged her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. She thought about her time in the Ostwick circle. It had been lonely, dull. As a child before she’d come into her magic, she’d regularly get in trouble for running around the woods that surrounded her parents’ estate, picking fights with squirrels and climbing trees. Being stuck inside the walls of the circle for years had left her with a constant itch for freedom, one that had occasionally left her a target for templars, and, by extension, her fellow mages. After all, if she caused trouble, it meant that all of the circle would reap the consequences, not just her.</p>
<p>“I can’t imagine either, anymore.” Then she grinned a little wickedly and waggled her eyebrows for extra effect. “Though I don’t have a secret midnight lover who sneaks into my tower with a blindfold and rope every night.”</p>
<p>Dorian snorted a laugh, though he would deny it to his grave. “Neither do I.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so Bull doesn’t recite poetry to you, comparing your hidden eyes to a new moon or your lips to the Maker’s bosom?”</p>
<p>“Maker, how does Varric even write something like that?”</p>
<p>“He’s willing to suffer through it for the coin. Plus getting the amusement of watching Cassandra fawn over it.”</p>
<p>Dorian groaned. “I don’t know if I can trust her judgement any longer. If I read anything else that she lends me, I’m certain my brain will start to leak out of my ears.”</p>
<p>Catherine practically cackled. “So, what, ‘The moonlight filtered through the stained glass, creating a painting on his naked, sweaty back,’ isn’t a masterpiece of literature?”</p>
<p>Dorian gagged before raising an eyebrow at her. “How many times have you read his work in to be able to quote it?”</p>
<p>Catherine blushed but had a defiant tilt to her chin. “Andraste had Maferath, maybe Shartan and the Maker himself. I’ve got some books, so forgive me if I’m trying to find some sort of comfort <em>somewhere</em>.”</p>
<p>Dorian gave a loud guffaw that echoed in the circular room. “I’m going to have to set you up with someone to save your intellect. Have Leliana conduct interviews. There aren’t many here who can keep up with me, and it would be a shame to let your mind decay from that rot.”</p>
<p>Catherine snorted and rolled her eyes as she grabbed the bottle of wine back from Dorian, finishing it off as he feigned offense. “Leliana has enough to deal with without winnowing potential lovers for me. Besides, anyone within the Inquisition would be my subordinate, so a bit of a conflict there, and anyone outside would be a security risk.”</p>
<p>“Oh, please, as if Leliana isn’t already collecting every love note and naughty letter from half your soldiers and every noble family south of Tevinter for blackmail or other political dealings.”</p>
<p>“Even if that were true—and I have yet to see anything that makes me think so—I doubt anyone would compare my eyes to the moon <em>and</em> the steel of my staff blade in the same paragraph.”</p>
<p>Dorian scoffed. “Good, because if they did, they would belong in the reject pile along with the spies and assassins.” Catherine giggled, grinning up at her friend as her cheek pressed against her knee. She honestly doubted Leliana had received anything of the sort. Trevelyan or not, she wasn’t exactly prime marriage material. After all, what noble was going to try to try to marry a heretical mage? “How about our dear Commander? If Andraste had Maferath, perhaps you should have Cullen. You could probably convince Solas, too, if you were so inclined. Though, hopefully the arrangement would have a smidge less betrayal this time around. I would rather not have to kill my best friend out of mercy, and I doubt Corypheus would be so inclined.”</p>
<p>Catherine snorted and hoped her blush could just be attributed to the wine. “When you put it that way, Dorian, it’s a wonder that I haven’t frolicked to their rooms to be ravaged by them already.”</p>
<p>“Yes, alright, not my best comparison, but there has been wine involved,” he said with a shrug before his expression became serious as he looked down at his friend. Like that, she looked more like a mischievous child than the intimidating force of nature he found her to be at their first meeting. “Honestly Catherine, you, of everyone here, deserve to have someone to lean on and distract you, at least for a little while, from everything happening outside the walls of your bed chambers.”</p>
<p>Catherine sighed. She knew her odds of surviving all of this were already abysmal. Even if she managed to shack up with someone who wasn’t endeavoring to lessen those odds even further, she wasn’t sure if she could bring someone else into the stress of that. “I’ll think about it,” she said, mainly to appease her friend, but then her smile turned wicked again. “But in the meantime, apparently Varric is going to release the next chapter soon.”</p>
<p>Dorian groaned, letting his head loll back to stare at the ceiling. “Maker, you’re incorrigible.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I'm planning to publish a new chapter every Monday so that I have time to keep ahead of the story in case I run into writers block and don't leave you hanging without anything. So far I've written ten chapters ahead and have several more planned, so you all should have Like Quiet content for a while!</p>
<p>I promise Catherine/Cullen content is coming soon. Dorian is too stubborn to let Catherine wallow alone. </p>
<p>Anyway, thanks again. Stay safe. Stay healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian meddles and actually wins a game of chess against the Commander.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cullen was aware that Varric had started some new serial, apparently a romance, that had become the talk of Skyhold. He couldn’t walk from his office to the war room without hearing something about a midnight lover or a silk blindfold. For his part, Cullen was fairly certain that the reports on his desk made for more interesting reading.</p><p>But when he opened the door to the war room, he was surprised to find that even his fellow advisors and the Inquisitor herself were apparently discussing it. “—target for assassination,” he could hear Josephine’s voice say.</p><p>“Of course, I’ve been that lover a few times in my life,” Leliana said with a wicked smile before turning her grin towards Cullen, making the commander miss the blush that dusted the Inquisitor’s cheeks.</p><p>“What about you, Commander? What’s your opinion of a secret midnight lover?”</p><p>He narrowly avoided rolling his eyes, but couldn’t keep the grimace from his face. “Anyone who has time for something like that should be directed to the quartermaster. I’m sure he could find them something productive to do with their time instead.” Josephine’s face turned a little sad, and Cullen missed the glance she threw towards Catherine before looking back down at her notes.</p><p>“I wouldn’t begrudge anyone finding something to make them feel safe and cared for, especially in times like this,” Catherine said, and Cullen looked at her, surprised, as her face seemed somber—lonely, even, in a way that made his chest hurt with familiarity. “But I agree with you, Josephine. It would be way to impractical, for me at least, given the risk.”</p><p>Josephine sighed wistfully, apparently having gotten the response from Catherine that she had wanted from Cullen, and gracefully turned their conversations back to business. While Cullen was glad to talk business instead, that lonely expression was stuck in the back of his mind and no report would erase it, even once Catherine and her team had left Skyhold’s gates for the Fallow Mire.</p><p>“For a friendly game of chess, Commander, your expression is far too serious.”</p><p>“You’re welcome to find a different chess partner.”</p><p>Catherine had taken Solas along with her, this time. While Dorian’s necromancy may have been useful, given the reports of undead, Catherine decided that Solas’s healing skills may end up being more necessary, depending on how well the Avvar treated their prisoners. Not that Dorian was particularly disappointed to avoid going to such a miserable place. Still, he decided that he needed a distraction and when he found Cullen in the courtyard, he thought it might be the perfect opportunity.</p><p>“Of course I could, but then you would be deprived of my company, and I wouldn’t want to be so cruel.” Cullen snorted and rolled his eyes. The mage had continued to live up to the first impression he’d made, strolling into the war room of Haven like he’d owned the place. But he did make for good company—not that Cullen would ever admit it. “There! You see? You’re already losing that frown from between your brows that has been there ever since our glorious Inquisitor rode out of the gates.” The frown returned as Cullen glared across the board at his chess partner, but Dorian waved his hand as if fanning the heat of the look away. “Yes, of course, just professional concern, many things to worry about aside from the Inquisitor herself, so on and so forth. I have such concerns as well. After all, Solas sets his own robes on fire and Catherine’s barriers are often left wanting. However, I have been recently made aware of other concerns which I am ill-equipped to resolve on my own.”</p><p>“If it’s a concern with the Inquisitor’s safety, I would suggest passing it on to Leliana,” Cullen said seriously, staring at the man, trying to figure out how much of this was an elaborate joke at his expense and how much was something he should genuinely be concerned about.</p><p>“Oh, I’m certain our spymaster is already quite aware. However, she is also not equipped to address this particular issue.”</p><p>Cullen sighs, giving into whatever trap Dorian was trying to lay. “And what makes the both of you unqualified to address this so-called problem but I am?”</p><p>Dorian represses a smile as he moved another chess piece. “Well, you see, our dear Catherine is similar to the Seeker, in that they often trade literature, if it can be called that, of a particular type.”</p><p>Cullen barely manages to rub his hands over his face. “What does her reading have to do with anything?”</p><p>“Well, this ‘literature’ is of the type that seems to be making a splash around Skyhold, written by our own resident dwarven author.”</p><p>“Dorian—”</p><p>“Hush, I’m getting to it. So, the reason she is so compelled to read something so utterly rubbish is because she lacks other, better-suited outlets.”</p><p>“Wha—Are you—” Cullen couldn’t even finish the thought. Surely Dorian wasn’t trying to encourage him to<em> sleep with the Inquisitor</em>. Dorian sighed, apparently having to spell it out for the man.</p><p>“What I am saying, Cullen, is that Catherine is <em>lonely</em>. I, as a friend, am only able to do so much to alleviate that, and the more responsibilities she has, the more danger she throws herself into, the heavier that loneliness is going to weigh.” Dorian stared, willing the man to understand. What he was suggesting wasn’t merely seduction and physical comfort. She needed more than that. She <em>deserved</em> more than that. “She needs someone to relieve those burdens from her before she collapses under the strain of it all, but being Inquisitor makes such a relationship dangerous.”</p><p>Cullen stared at the chess piece his fingers were hovering over. While she was entitled to be involved with whomever she pleased, they all knew that she was too cautious to entangle herself with just anyone. Instead, she would sit alone, shouldering all the burdens by herself. Unless she had someone who valued the Inquisition just as much as the woman bearing the mantle. Unless it was someone she already trusted. Unless it was someone who already knew all the secrets and strategies. Unless it was someone in his position.</p><p>Cullen looked back up at Dorian, who had a raised eyebrow and grew a small smile, despite the serious look in his eyes. The man was serious about his concern for Catherine, serious about his concern of what handling it alone would do to her. The memory of her lonely expression in the war room earlier conjured itself, and Cullen looked back down at the board and moved his piece, his mind far away from the board in front of him.</p><p>“There, now. You see, Commander? This is why I brought this particular concern to you. Now, I believe this game is mine.” Dorian set down a piece, on the opposite side of the board from where Cullen had last noticed it, but he couldn’t be bothered to call out the cheating. “Now, I’m off to do some more research. Have a pleasant afternoon.”</p><p>Cullen stayed sitting for a while longer, watching as Dorian sauntered off. He’d said it like it was simple. Like he could simply walk up to Catherine and lift her into his arms and carry her off into the sunset, away from all her worries.</p><p>Maker knew he wanted to help her, and it was a little concerning that his interest was obvious enough that Dorian could recognize it. However, he had no idea if she had any interest, let alone an interest in him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen tries to help distract Catherine from the stress with chess and conversation, but it doesn't help as much as he would like.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time the Inquisitor returned with her safely rescued agents in tow almost two weeks later, Cullen had talked himself in circles a thousand times. Briefly he had considered simply walking up to her and offering his shoulder, his ear, his time, <em>himself</em>, to her, but knew that even if he could bring himself to do so, she would likely refuse something so direct, not wanting to cause him any undue burden. More seriously, he considered something like a traditional courtship: flowers, wine, poetry and sweet nothings to whisper, but he wasn’t certain if such actions would be welcome from him and didn’t want to add to her burden by making her uncomfortable.</p><p>Finally, after she had debriefed her advisors in the war room, Cullen lingered after, deciding on a simple, but hopefully effective enough approach.</p><p>“Catherine, if you have some time, would you care for a game of chess?” he asked, and she gave him a smile, even if it was tinged with confusion. He didn’t blame her. After all, he knew his reputation for being serious all the time, and he couldn’t really refute it either.</p><p>“Gladly, Cullen,” she replied, referring to him casually as he did, where they were normally more formal with one another. He tried not to think about how much he enjoyed hearing her say his name. “Something on your mind?”</p><p>He shook his head as he followed her out of the war room towards the courtyard, not noticing Josephine’s interested gaze follow them. “I’ve just been craving a game with someone who <em>doesn’t </em>cheat,” he gave her a conspiratorial smile, knowing that she’s played with Dorian as well and knew his tactics. She snickered.</p><p>“What makes you think I won’t?”</p><p>Cullen huffed a laugh. “Then hopefully you have some different methods of cheating.”</p><p>She grinned and they started their match, talking about nothing in particular, but he was pleased to be able to at least draw a smile and laugh from her. He hoped that it helped ease her mind, if only a little. At the end of their third match, ending in a draw with each of them having won a previous game, Cullen suggested that they play again sometime, and she happily agreed before they both parted for their duties.</p><p>Two days later, over another game of chess—with a running score of five wins each and one draw—Catherine was animatedly telling Cullen about the latest book she was reading, based on the adventures of the Black Fox. Despite her enthusiasm, Cullen could see that she looked even more tired than when she had returned from the Fallow Mire.</p><p>Then when she was preparing to leave for Crestwood after getting word from Hawke, Cullen lingered after another war room meeting to loan her one of his favorite novels from when he was younger. It was filled with adventure, heroes and daring deeds, something he thought she might enjoy reading on the road. She grinned more happily than he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing as she held the book close to her chest.</p><p>But even with her bright smile, he could tell that she was even more tired than even during their last chess match. As much as being on the road clearly wore on her, it seemed that being at Skyhold wore her out even faster.</p><p>Clearly, she needed more than just a few distracting conversations over a game of chess.</p><p>“Eyes watching, wanting, worried. ‘No mistakes. No missteps. Anything to prevent that future. Anything.’”</p><p>Cullen’s hand automatically went to his sword before he looked to his side to see Cole there, evidently just trying to give him his daily dose of a heart attack as Catherine rode out of the gates with Dorian, Varric, and The Iron Bull in tow.</p><p>“<em>Maker’s Breath</em>, Cole. Can you at least announce yourself?”</p><p>“I can. But you would not have heard. ‘Warm, welcoming. Smile like summer’s sun. ‘Maker, keep her safe.’” Cole glanced up from under his hat, seeming to not even notice Cullen put away his half-drawn sword. “You want to help.”</p><p>Cullen sighed but managed to keep from running a hand over his face as he turned to go back to his office. Part of him hoped Cole would just drop it, but he knew that was wishful thinking.</p><p>“Do you have a suggestion, then, or are you just pestering?”</p><p>Cole, to Cullen’s minor disappointment, followed him into his office. “Heavy, heart aching. Trying to trust after harrowing hate, but lies leash the label. Desire grips her gut like hunger, but Haven hollows it out. Separation and space to keep them all safe. ‘Beaten the odds too many times. I won’t make it again.’” Cullen paused as he was half-reaching for a report on his desk, feeling like he’d been hit with winter’s grasp. When Cole was quiet, Cullen forced himself to turn his head to look at the boy, only catching a short glimpse of sad eyes.</p><p>“What can I do?”</p><p>“Coveting a calm caress, bliss bound only in books. She craves more than a Commander.”</p><p>The ice in his gut melted with a flare of heat on the back of his neck, and he looked away, scratching at the warmth like he could make it dissipate from under his gloves by touching it. “Surely that’s not all—” Cullen started, but cut himself off when he looked up only to find himself alone. This time when he sighed, he didn’t bother keeping himself from running a hand over his face before forcing himself to sit behind his desk and start reading reports.</p><p>oOo</p><p>By the time shadows had overcome Skyhold and the Herald’s Rest was starting to clear out for the night, Cullen had barely managed to get through even a fraction of his work. He was distracted, restless. He wanted to drive himself to exhaustion by bashing a training dummy—or better, spar with someone who could fight back—but he knew that wasn’t going to solve the problem.</p><p>Heaving a final sigh, he gave up on the documents for the night and stood, deciding to head to the library first. With Dorian out with the Inquisitor, the library would likely be empty—and free of mocking—at such a late hour. With any luck, even Leliana wouldn’t be around to notice him searching the shelves.</p><p>It took some hunting, but eventually he was able to find his targets: <em>Swords and Shields</em>, <em>Starlit Passion</em>, and <em>Obeying Her Order</em>. He was able to find others by Varric and from <em>The Randy Dowager Quarterly</em>, but didn’t want to have to look even more suspicious by carrying an even larger stack of books back to his quarters.</p><p>“What are you thinking?” he mumbled to himself as he headed back towards his quarters. He could already feel his ears burning with a blush carrying the smut around. Maker only knew how he was going to be able to get through reading them.</p><p>Then he remembered the lonely expression on Catherine’s face at the war table as she said that everyone was entitled to have someone to lean on, except her.</p><p>Resolving himself, he went up to his bed with his haul and sat down on the bed to crack open Varric’s latest creation first. He was always good at studying. Maker willing, he’d manage this as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That short conversation with Cole? Took me hours to get right. I love writing Cole, but holy crap is it difficult to get right.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed! Stay safe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While Cullen is studying, Catherine handles the chaos in Crestwood.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Inquisitor, </em> </p><p><em> The Sutherland lad reported back. The bandits were cleared with minor spoils. He may have potential.  </em> </p><p><em> The rest of  </em> <em> Skyhold </em> <em>  is as busy as ever. When I was in the courtyard this morning, I noticed the prophet’s laurel that you planted a few weeks ago seems to be sprouting. Let me know if there is something that I should do to keep it alive while you are away. I haven’t tended a plant in years, but I will do what I can to keep it growing until you return. </em> </p><p><em> I am sure you have the situation in Crestwood well in hand, but the reports from  </em> <em> Leliana’s </em> <em>  agents are troubling. Stay safe. </em> </p><p><em> Cullen </em> </p><p>When Catherine opened a letter with her commander’s seal, she had expected a report. She got it, she supposed, but the almost conversational tone of the rest of the letter was a surprise. A pleasant one, of course, but she hadn’t expected it and couldn’t keep the slow grin from her face as she read it a second time.</p><p>Until recently, Catherine had thought Cullen was too professional to outright ignore her, but had no interest in a friendly relationship. Why would he, after all, when she was a mage who had somehow ended up being something of a commanding officer to him? She was just glad to have his advice. He was practical and straightforward in contrast to Josephine’s politics and Leliana’s subterfuge.</p><p>But recently Cullen had become more friendly, asking her to games of chess at Skyhold and now more casual letters mixed with his reports. Catherine couldn’t help being delighted with the thought that he seemed to not only not dislike her presence, but to actually enjoy it.</p><p>In all honesty, she’d never imagined she would have so many people she could call friends, so many people around her who seemed to actually like her. After her lonely years at the circle, it was still a constant shock.</p><p>Back at Haven, when Blackwall told her he admired her, Catherine had almost fallen over from shock. Then when Dorian called her his friend, it took everything in her not to start crying or hug him so hard it could have broken a rib.</p><p>“Has Leliana started passing along humorous proposals?”</p><p>Catherine jumped and crushed the letter from Cullen to her chest as she turned towards Dorian who had sat himself down on the battlements next to her.</p><p>“Nope! Nothing like that,” she said an octave too high, unconvincing even to her own ears. Dorian’s grin slowly grew and stretched his face with raised eyebrows.</p><p>“Of course not, you wouldn’t safeguard a proposal like that. So what is it then? A love letter? Did you find yourself a paramour while I wasn’t looking?”</p><p>She felt herself turning red even as she tried to fold the letter back up, more to give her hands something to do than to actually put it away. She felt ridiculous, getting flustered over a letter that was so completely unextraordinary. He was probably just genuinely wanting to make sure her plant survived so she would be able to put it to use. Nothing more.</p><p>“Nothing like that. Just a report from Cullen,” she said as calmly as she could, but she could feel her ears burning. As she looked down at the letter, she missed the surprised look on her friend’s face.</p><p>“Bolder than I thought,” he mumbled to himself, but when she looked back up questioningly, his mischievous smirk was back. “Just a report you say? You wouldn’t dare hold out on me, would you? After prying me for every little detail of my liaisons?”</p><p>She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Please, if I were prying, you would know. But no, here, see? Nothing but a report,” she said as she handed it over, then had to look away as Dorian read through it, feeling embarrassed that she was so affected by something so entirely dull.</p><p>“Is taking care of your prophet’s laurel some sort innuendo?” Dorian asked, his smirk having melted from teasing to utter confusion.</p><p>“No! Of course not. He’s just asking about the plant. Like I said, nothing exciting at all.”</p><p>Dorian sighed in a way that very much reminded her of her father the time that she came back from the woods with branches tangled in her hair and mud all over her dress when she was about to have to greet his dinner guests.</p><p>“I’m going to sic Varric on him once we’re back. The man needs to learn to write a proper love letter,” Dorian groused, more to himself than to Catherine, but she gave a laugh and gently shoved his shoulder.</p><p>“If you’re that desperate for the next chapter of Varric’s story, I’d be happy to loan you the latest issue of The Randy Dowager Quarterly.”</p><p>“Maker, just throw me off the battlements, will you? It’ll be quicker, less embarrassing for all involved.”</p><p>Catherine grinned before standing. “Anyway, nothing exciting here. So off to bed for me. We’re going to clear out the rift in the morning, so get some rest.”</p><p>Dorian grumbled but got up to go to his cot. At least they had some sturdy rooms to keep out all the rain, rather than just the canvass of the tents.</p><p>oOo</p><p><em> C</em><em>ommander </em> <em> , </em> </p><p><em> Glad to hear Sutherland made it out alright. Let me know if anything else comes up that we might use him for. He seemed eager to help when I initially spoke to him. If he still is, I think it’d be good to have him. </em> </p><p><em>  As for the prophet's laurel, it likes the shade and to stay damp. So if it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it if you make sure it doesn’t sit out in the warmer afternoon sun </em> <em>  (morning sun is fine) </em> <em>  and that the soil stays damp. If you’re not sure, just stick your finger in the soil. If it’s dry to the first knuckle, go ahead and give it some water. I’ll be glad to see it once I’m back. Thank you for your help. </em> </p><p><em> It’ll be good to see you, too. I look forward to our next chess match. I feel like at this point, we should have something more than just our pride on the line. If you come up with a bet, let me know. (The only bet I can think of right now is just dry clothing. Does the rain here ever stop? I swear it feels like I’ll never have dry smallclothes again.)  </em> </p><p><em> Anyway, I’m sure you have the reports from  </em> <em> Leliana </em> <em> , but we’ve taken over  </em> <em> Caer </em>  <em> Bronach </em> <em>  and managed to drain the lake. We’re going to search for a way to get to the rift in the morning. We’ll do our best to make it back safe. </em> </p><p><em> Catherine </em> </p><p>Despite being alone in his office, he tried to cover his blush with his hand. Maker, he’d been reading salacious novels from Varric and The Randy Dowager Quarterly and every other author he could manage to scrounge up at the library after the rest of the castle had gone to sleep, but Catherine’s mention of a clothing bet for their chess matches had him blushing more than any of the bawdiness of the books he’d read.</p><p>Of course, it could also be that reading so much smut had truly addled his brain like Dorian insisted when they had discussed—rather Dorian had gossiped and Cullen had tried to tune out—Cassandra’s reading habits, and now his mind was unable to read perfectly ordinary complaints and not twist them into something salacious. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, Cullen ran his hand over his face as he wondered to himself what in the Maker’s name he was doing.</p><p>oOo</p><p><em> Inquisitor, </em> </p><p><em> We've had a request for some general patrols. It is heartening that we are being looked to in this way, but I doubt we would find any activity directly related to  </em> <em> Corypheus </em> <em> , and our resources are better sent elsewhere. The request was in the same region as the bandits reported by the Sutherland lad. Perhaps we should extend his duties? He seems to have picked up a fellow adventurer. A mage, he looks like.  </em> <em> Dalish </em> <em> , based on the markings. Let me know if I should dispatch them for the patrol. </em> </p><p><em> I’ll keep an eye on the plant. If it dies, I promise I followed your instructions to the letter, but I am simply not in possession of a green thumb. I will do my best. </em> </p><p><em> I am not normally one for gambling, but on this, I agree that something must be on the line if we are ever to satisfactorily break our tie. Perhaps once you are dry and back safely, we can come up with something. Or ask  </em> <em> Varric </em> <em> . He seems to have a hundred different bets running at a time. Did you know he’s evidently put odds on whether or not  </em> <em> Leliana </em> <em>  will start  </em> <em> nug </em> <em>  races in the grand hall? Can you imagine the mess? </em> </p><p><em> As for Crestwood, it cannot be any more wet than the Storm Coast, could it? I don’t recall anyone but Dorian complaining about that one. But then, he tends to make everyone aware of his dissatisfactions. Though I welcome hearing more about yours. </em> </p><p><em> I hope this letter finds you safe and Crestwood free of undead and Maker knows what else. </em> </p><p><em> Cullen </em> </p><p>Catherine smiled for the first time that day once she received Cullen’s letter. The day had been something of a shitshow from start to finish. She and her team had managed to clear the village of all the surrounding rifts, revealing that the undead were people who had been trapped in the caves when they flodded during the Blight. A dragon had moved in overnight, something they were not prepared to handle after so many demons but were probably going to have to deal with later. According to Stroud, every Warden was hearing the Calling which was being evidently manipulated by Corypheus. Apparently one of her spymaster’s top agents had been compromised, and to top it all off, the Mayor of Crestwood had fled, leaving behind only a confession.</p><p>Maker, she just wanted to sleep, but knew that her recurring nightmares of Redcliffe would only be made worse by the day’s events.</p><p>oOo</p><p><em> Commander, </em> </p><p><em> Go ahead and send Sutherland and his friend out. Let them request resources if they need them. </em> </p><p><em> Honestly, if  </em> <em> Leliana </em> <em>  asks me to start  </em> <em> nug </em> <em>  races, I might just say yes if it will scare out a few nobles. Of course, it could lure in just as many.  </em> </p><p><em> As for dissatisfactions, Crestwood is a  </em> <em> shitshow </em> <em> . Just read the report I’m sending to  </em> <em> Leliana </em> <em> . And I think I’m going to have to come back to kill a dragon that is far too close to the village for my liking. </em> </p><p><em> Ignore me. It’s been a long day. But we are safe and will be on our way back to  </em> <em> Skyhold </em> <em>  as you read this.  </em> </p><p><em> Catherine </em> </p><p><em> P.S. Despite the tone of mine, I do enjoy reading your letters. Please continue to send them. </em> </p><p>Cullen looked up from the letter at the sound of the guard at the gates announcing the return of Catherine and her party. He’d read the report Catherine had sent to Leliana that morning, and Maker, ‘shitshow’ seemed like an understatement.</p><p>He wrote up the orders to be delivered to Sutherland and then left his office, heading towards the war room where he knew Catherine would be heading first, before she even took off her armor. She hid her exhaustion in her posture and expression, but the fatigue couldn’t be concealed from her eyes—and the darkening circles beneath them.</p><p>As soon as they were done with the meeting, Cullen headed to the quartermaster. If he really was going to recreate the novels for her—Maker preserve him—he was going to need some supplies.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen has a plan and Catherine kills some darkspawn.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cullen stared at the materials he’d gathered and spread out onto his bed, partially to inspect their quality, but mostly to consider his own sanity for the thousandth time.</p><p>First, there was a shirt made from soft woven cotton from Ostwick in a dark grey. Second was a wool-lined suede vest with wooden toggles and hidden interior pockets. This was probably the most expensive item laying on his bed, but his personal favorite as well. Third, there were some sturdy cotton canvass trousers, and it felt like it had been years since he had owned trousers that were made with anything lighter than bear leather. Still, they were thick enough to be warm and more comfortable than he had expected. Last for the clothing, there were the boots which were simpler than his usual ones, no armor or straps or extra leather, but they were still fairly sturdy and would be comfortable once broken in.</p><p>He had no idea if he would be able to get any use out of any of it, but he hoped…</p><p>Then there was everything else. Clothing was one thing—he had to wear something, after all, and did have a couple of items that weren’t specifically made for going underneath his armor—but the rest? Well, the rest of the items felt more like a commitment to the path he had decided to go down and while he was no stranger to life-changing commitments, this one was different than the rest. Despite the objectively lower risk, he still felt more anxious than he had before joining the Templars. Or leaving them, for that matter. Still, his hands drifted to his next material.</p><p>While the small container seemed insignificant, he’d taken more time than he cared to admit to select it. Inside was a material similar to the wax he used for his hair, but softer. It melted just a little under the touch of a warm finger and a scent that reminded Cullen of summers spent in the woods lingered on his hand from it. The solid cologne wouldn’t last as long as the Orleasian eau de toilette that he had also considered, but under the circumstances, he thought that might be a good thing.</p><p>Next to the cologne sat another container, this one a simple round box. Inside was a concentrated balm made with embrium, spindleweed and elfroot. It also had a hint of whatever it was that made the lighter scent in his cologne. He hoped that even if nothing else he had would be accepted, this, at least would. It was precious little that he could do, but it was practical, and with all the fantasy he was endeavoring to build, the dangers she would face were no less real.</p><p>As for the fantasy, the final piece was a strip of silk which had somehow been the second most expensive item of his purchases. It was Orlesian and he was assured it was the finest that existed. He’d been skeptical, but it felt like water sliding through his hands. Maker only knew what Morris thought he would be doing with such a thing, but he desperately tried not to think of it. And he knew that the man was far too frightened of him—and seemingly everyone—to ever say something anyway.</p><p>With a sigh but steeled resolve, he gathered the silk, balm and a note he’d written earlier into a simple drawstring bag and tucked it unto his belt under his cloak and then headed towards the main keep. There was one last thing he had to do, and Maker, he felt like he was walking to his own noose.</p><p>oOo</p><p>“‘One by one they follow me, laughing, drowning in the sea.’ The rest of the poem is sad.”</p><p>“But the start was so cheery.”</p><p>“If it’s the darkspawn drowning, then I don’t have any complaints,” Catherine grinned, looking over at Blackwall. He huffed a laugh and Solas took over Cole’s attention to discuss his actions around Skyhold.</p><p>They were trekking along the rocky shores of the Storm Coast, keeping an eye out for Darkspawn. Evidently, they had somehow leaked onto the surface, and with the Wardens either in Weishaupt of hunting for Stroud who was making his way to the Western Approach, it seemed that the Inquisiton and it’s one Warden were the only ones who could take care of them before it became a problem for more than just the coast.</p><p>And Maker, she had not needed the extra nightmare fuel.</p><p>If Corypheus could somehow command the blight and use it to manipulate the Wardens, could he use it to manipulate the Darkspawn as well?</p><p>A shiver went down her spine.</p><p>During the Fifth Blight, she’d just been a young mage in the Circle in Ostwick. She’d only just had her Harrowing and had only heard about the Blight after it had already ended, leaving one of the Wardens King of Ferelden and the other an arlessa and married to the Arl of Redcliffe. (The more she thought about it, the more she wondered what in the Maker’s name Alexius had been thinking when he decided to take over that castle, out of all the castles in Thedas.) She’d never seen a darkspawn until she came face-to face with one fighting a spider in a cave that morning, and she was honestly surprised she was able to pull on her magic given the trembling of her hands.</p><p>Maker, the <em>stench</em>. She was doing her best to not think about it, but she was certain that once they were ready to camp for the night, she would end up vomiting behind a tree and hoping that the waves and weather would be loud enough to hide the sound of her retching from her companions.</p><p>Aside from the horror and danger of the darkspawn and the perpetual miserable damp of the coast, Catherine was eager to get back to Skyhold as soon as possible because of a letter she’d received from Cullen that morning. He had continued their conversational letters, which she enjoyed, but he also let her know that they had found Crestwood’s Mayor.</p><p>And while she wasn’t eager to decide what would happen to a man whose decision had been one of many bad options and no good ones, she wanted to get it over with. His lie had lasted a decade and the slow-creeping horror that had settled into her gut when she saw the claw marks in the caverns beneath the village hadn’t left her since. Crestwood deserved justice, what little she could give it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I have up to chapter 30 either written or outlined. And that puts me at maybe the half way point of the story. </p><p>Basically, I'm going to be earning that slow burn tag. Eventually the rating of this story will change, but there's still a while before we get there.</p><p>Anyway, thanks for reading. Stay safe and healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen makes arrangements and Catherine is suspicious</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander, it’s odd for you to come yourself. Another report for the Inquisitor?” Leliana asked, head tilted as he mounted the last of the stairs into the rookery.</p>
<p>“Yes and—” Cullen cleared his throat, hoping the nervousness he heard in his voice was just in his head and not something she could hear too. “I have something else I’d like to discuss as well, if you have a moment.”</p>
<p>“Of course. Please, sit. Would you like some tea?” she asked, taking the letter from him to send out with a bird later and he followed her to sit at her desk.</p>
<p>“No, thank you.”</p>
<p>“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, taking a sip from her own cup as she distractedly arranged some pages on her desk.</p>
<p>Cullen cleared his throat again and tried to make himself comfortable, a futile task, and happened to glance down at the pages she was adjusting.</p>
<p>—<em>Tethras books as well as purchases of several articles of clothing (high than usual quality, more casual), cologne (elderflower, oakmoss), Orleasian silk</em>—</p>
<p>The blood drained from Cullen’s face as he realized it was a list of his own purchases, and he gave up the calm façade he’d been struggling to maintain, running his hands over his face with a groan. “Maker, please tell me now if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.”</p>
<p>Leliana’s laugh was high and clear, and he opened his eyes again to look at her, face still half-covered by his hand while she smiled, gentle and guileless. “On the contrary, Commander, I’m very glad you’ve decided on this course.”</p>
<p>Cullen gave her a skeptical look, waiting for the teasing. “You are?”</p>
<p>“Observant though I may be, surely I can’t be the only one who has noticed how worn down she’s become,” she said, face turning somber. “She looks more tired every time she leaves for the field, even more than when she returns. She needs someone here, someone on her side and supporting her as a woman, just as much as she is supported as the Inquisitor.”</p>
<p>Cullen sighed with both relief and understanding. “I don’t know if I will be able to do enough,” he confessed.</p>
<p>Leliana’s smile returned as she leaned forward. “It’s enough that you would try,” she said, echoing what he’d told Catherine, back at Haven, back before they knew the full extent of the danger that they faced. He felt his face warm, but managed to return the smile, feeling a little reassured before he thanked her for her time and turned to leave.</p>
<p>“One other thing, Commander?” she called, and he paused, turning back towards her.</p>
<p>“Don't try a Kirkwall accent. Just lean into being Ferelden.”</p>
<p>Cullen felt the warmth spread to his ears but nodded his thanks before leaving. At least now he knew he wouldn’t get a dagger to the back for this ridiculous plan.</p>
<p>oOo</p>
<p>Catherine gave a sigh as she reached the final set of stairs before her quarters. She didn’t know whose idea it was to house her at the very top of the main tower, but Maker, she wished there wasn’t always a mountain’s worth of stairs between her and her bed every time she returned from the field.</p>
<p>She was still covered in the sickly grey blood of darkspawn and the gore of one apparent blood mage and all she wanted was a bath and a decent night’s rest, but as she finally reached the door, at the last moment before she touched the handle, she noticed the small bag hanging off it.</p>
<p>She stared at the small package before pulling her staff from her back and casting a barrier. Slowly, she slid the bag off the handle and opened it, finding a letter with a blank wax seal and a small wooden box. Frowning, she unsealed the letter first.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dearest lady,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>While I know you possess the skill to protect yourself from any foe while you are gone, I offer to take care of you once you return. To that end, I have enclosed a balm for your injuries to hasten a speedy recovery. I know injuries are not the only burden you bear, but I hope this will lessen them a little. For the rest, I will take whatever load you willing to share.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If this package is not on your door tonight, I will leave another for you. If you leave this on your door, I will not bother you again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Rest well.</em>
</p>
<p>Catherine was hesitant as she opened the box and first sniffed the contents. She could smell the elderflower and embrium, and given the note assumed that it also contained spindleweed or elfroot. It was a light, sweet scent that was pleasant, but the pleasantness didn’t mean it was safe. Hesitantly, she dabbed a little on a scratch on the back of her hand, prepared to run to wash it off immediately if it caused any harm, but nothing happened. There was a slight soothing sensation, like that of an elfroot poultice, but nothing else.</p>
<p>She hummed to herself and mounted the rest of the stairs, tossing the bag and its contents onto her desk before disrobing and throwing a little fire magic in the way of her bathtub. Whatever it was, the balm didn’t seem to be harming her, and she was eager to wash the Storm Coast off of her and to never, ever get it on her again.</p>
<p>By the time she and her armor were both free of grime and gore, the scratch on her hand was almost healed. Her hands shook when she realized, not from fear, but sudden relief, and before she could stop it, a sob broke from her chest. She sat on her bed, one arm wrapped around herself, the other hand covering her mouth as she tried to muffle her weeping, letting the scent of the balm chase out the horrible stench of the darkspawn that seemed to still somehow fill her lungs.</p>
<p>Maker, she was just so <em>tired</em>. She felt so empty and raw and every new horror she saw just dug its claws deeper into her, and she wanted so badly to just not think about it for a while. To just be Catherine. To not be so hollowed out by loneliness. To just be allowed to be <em>scared</em>. She was just a woman, not a Bride of the Maker, nor a Herald. She was trying so hard to be everything they needed her to be, to do everything she had to in order to prevent that horrifying future. She was willing to give every part of herself to prevent it, and Maker knew the world was trying its best to take it.</p>
<p>oOo</p>
<p>Catherine must have eventually fallen asleep, because eventually she woke to dawn’s light, curled up at the corner of the bed where she’d cried the night before. She was sluggish getting up, feeling a few knots from the odd position she’d slept in, but then remembered the balm.</p>
<p>She glanced at her hand, finding it completely healed with no trace of any scratch having been there at all, and then took the balm back up and started applying it to her remaining injuries and aches. By the time she finished, it already seemed to be working, soothing the worst of the injuries into a calm numbness and she sighed with relief before remembering what the rest of the mysterious letter had said.</p>
<p>Quickly, she got up and went down the small flight of stairs in her room to look at what was on the other side of her door.</p>
<p>When she opened it, she found another small parcel and another note with a blank seal.</p>
<p>She didn’t bother with the barrier this time as she grabbed both and headed back up to her room, opening the package first as she sat on her bed. Out of it came a length of fabric. Confused, she turned to the letter.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dearest Lady,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I pray the balm was soothing and your night relaxing. I know your days are busy and free time rare, so I have arranged for breakfast to be delivered to your quarters, if only to give you another moment’s peace. Feel no need to force yourself to smile while just in the company of breakfast and a sunrise.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If your door is clear this evening, I will leave another package. If the silk is on the handle, I will not bother you again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Enjoy Breakfast.</em>
</p>
<p>Catherine stared at the note, unfeeling as she fiddled with the silk in her hand, enjoying the sensation of it gliding through her fingers, but the sudden knock at the door surprised her out of her thoughts. Waiting for her was one of the kitchen staff, carrying a tray of food but her thoughts lingered with the silk on her bed.</p>
<p>Could she let herself have this one thing? Could she afford the risk? Could the Inquisition?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So that scene with Leliana? One half of the reason I bothered with writing this story to begin with because I wanted that so badly.  Lelaina is going to be enjoying the whole arrangement just as much as Catherine and Cullen.</p>
<p>At this point, I don't know if the other half is ever going to make it into the story, but I've found other things that fit better and make me enjoy writing it just as much. (Dorian. Dorian is the 'other things'.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine kills a dragon and her friends watch her back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You seem preoccupied, Inquisitor,” Leliana said with a hint of concern when Catherine lingered at the war table longer than usual. Josephine and Cullen had already left, but the spymaster remained, studying her.</p><p>Catherine chewed her lip, thinking of the notes in her pocket—especially the latest that came tucked on her breakfast tray that morning, and the servant who had delivered her meal had no answers for her.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest Lady,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you wish it, at midnight the night you return, there will be a knock at your door. I would help you dress any wounds you may have, simply listen to you talk or perform any other task you wish of me. All I ask is for you to wear the silk over your eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, if you would prefer to be alone, simply leave the silk on the door and I will leave you undisturbed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stay Safe.</em>
</p><p>“There is... something I would like to ask you, if you have a moment.”</p><p>“Of course, what do you need?”</p><p>“There’s... Well, I—Maker, there’s no easy way to talk about this.” Catherine grumbled, and then pulled the notes from her pocket and handed them out to Leliana. The woman took them with a curious expression. “I’ve received two of these hanging on my door at night along with a package just since I came back from the coast. The first had some sort of healing balm that was very effective with no ill effects. The second had a length of silk. The third came with breakfast from the kitchen staff, but he had no answers on where the note had come from, just that it was there when he got his orders to deliver it.”</p><p>Leliana frowned as she read over the notes. “No ill effects?”</p><p>Catherine shook her head. “Nothing, not from the balm or the food.” Leliana went from the first note to the second and Catherine fidgeted. “I know this is ridiculous and you and your people have better things to do, but whoever this is seems to know when I am about to leave, not that it’s terribly unusual to know that I will be leaving every few days, but—”</p><p>“Your safety is most important, Inquisitor,” Leliana cut Catherine off with a stern look. “If this is someone aiming to harm you, I will find out.”</p><p>Catherine nodded gratefully but then looked down at her hands again. “And if... they don’t intend to harm me?”</p><p>“Would you want me to let them pass?”</p><p>Catherine hesitated but then met Leliana’s eyes and nodded, and the spymaster gave a gentle smile.</p><p>“Would you want to know who it is?”</p><p>“No. No, if you deem them trustworthy, I’ll trust you. I don’t want to invade that privacy of theirs.”</p><p>“Of course, Inquisitor,” Leliana said as she handed the letters back. “In the meantime, safe travels.”</p><p>oOo</p><p><em>At least it’s not raining this time</em>, Catherine thought as she and her party filled their belts with as many potions as they could hold and made last-minute preparations.</p><p>When they arrived in Crestwood the evening before, they had cleared out all the highwaymen and rifts that they could find in their path to the Black Fens without getting too close to their target: a Northern Hunter. While she waited for word from Hawke and Stroud in the Western Approach, she decided that they should take care of the dragon before it harmed the village or the fort. Northern Hunters were known for being even more voracious than other High Dragons, after all, and Crestwood had already been through enough, and after sending their old mayor to the cells in Denerim, Catherine knew that there was no one else who would protect them from the threat.</p><p>She was convinced that it was good that they arrived when they did because as of the last word from the village, the dragon had already eaten three horses, five goats and two cats. Hopefully they would be able to strike it down before it ate anymore livestock or even moved on to humans. Or before it turned to the Inquisition’s own mounts. Orchid, Dorian’s Imperial warmblood, had cost the Inquisition a pretty penny, and Anaan, Bull’s Green Dales Feral, was the only mount the Inquisition had that Bull could ride without his feet nearly hitting the ground.</p><p>Of course, if the dragon went anywhere near Shiral, Catherine would take Bull’s axe and behead the Northern Hunter herself.</p><p>“Inquisitor! Message for you.”</p><p>Catherine snapped out of her reverie and accepted the vellum from Charter with her thanks. Charter gave her a nod and went back to her own work, and Catherine looked down to see her spymaster’s seal looking back up at her, sending a rush of nerves through her.</p><p>
  <em>I,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your visitor is safe. I can provide more details on your return if you wish. Happy hunting.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>L.</em>
</p><p>Catherine took a deep breath. She was relieved, but Leliana’s letter left more questions in its wake. After all, it had only been a few days, so what did it mean that she already had an answer?</p><p>She shook her head. They already had a threat to deal with and she couldn’t afford to be distracted. Leliana said they were safe. That would have to be enough for the moment.</p><p>“Everyone ready?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Let’s do this, Boss”</p><p>Dorian muttered something in tevene under his breath but gave Catherine a vague gesture of grudging approval while Sera giggled maniacally.</p><p>“Alright. Let’s go do this.”</p><p>oOo</p><p>Somehow, they survived. They ran out of potions and without the rock armor tonic, Bull probably would have had a claw through his gut a few times, but they all made it out alive and the dragon didn’t. Catherine was putting this on her win list.</p><p>Still, they were exhausted and needed to rest before clearing out the rest of the rifts, so they went back to Caer Bronach to tend to their wounds and recuperate for the night deciding that once the last of the rifts in the region were cleared, they would head back to Skyhold.</p><p>Catherine sat by the fire, coating the burn on her arm with the salve she’d received from her mystery writer. The Hunter had its eyes trained on Bull who had already been knocked off his feet, so she’d thrown a barrier over him and sent a barrage of ice at the dragon, hoping to distract it. It had worked, but her mana hadn’t recovered in time to cast another barrier on herself and she hadn’t been quick enough to dodge the ball of lightening it had spat at her.</p><p>She sighed with relief as the balm worked and numbed the injury.</p><p>“That’s a new concoction. Wherever did you pick it up?” Dorian eyed the small wooden container and its contents with curiosity as he approached and lounged by the fire. She felt her cheeks warm and she hoped the blush wasn’t visible in the orange hues of the light, but when her friend’s eyebrows raised and eyes focused like he’d just found something very intriguing that he wanted to study, she looked away, feeling the heat spread to her ears.</p><p>“It was... a gift.”</p><p>She chanced a glance at him and immediately regretted it when she saw the grin spreading across his face.</p><p>“A gift from <em>whom</em>, my dear Inquisitor? Has Josephine finally started passing along tokens of affection from fawning nobles?” Catherine rolled her eyes at him but then mumbled something Dorian couldn’t quite catch as she wrapped up her arm. “What was that? ‘You were right, Dorian. How could I ever have doubted you’?”</p><p>Catherine snorted and shot him a half-hearted glare. “No, it’s—I don’t actually know who it was from.”</p><p>Dorian stopped his teasing short and stared at her, searching and the looked at the little container for a moment, eyeing it warily. “And you’re certain it’s not poison?”</p><p>She smiled a little as she tied off the bandage. Then she offered the balm to Dorian to inspect and satiate his curiosity. “I’m sure. It arrived at my door with a note after I got back from the Storm Coast.”</p><p>“A note?” He asked, looking up from the mysterious container he was turning in his hands.</p><p>She felt her cheeks heat but nodded as she chewed her lip. Then she dug into her pockets where she’d kept the notes. She felt silly for keeping them with her, but also couldn’t bring herself to leave them behind in Skyhold. She handed them over to Dorian as well and fidgeted with her bandage to give herself something to do as he read them over. Then she heard a chuckle.</p><p>“So, <em>someone</em> is making you the character of your own favorite novels. You should tell Varric. I’m sure he would be delighted to have some new inspiration.”</p><p>“Oh, Maker, please don’t tell him,” she pleaded, and Dorian must have had some sympathy and changed course.</p><p>“Have you met this mystery lover yet?”</p><p>“No, not yet. The last one came with my breakfast the morning before we left.”</p><p>“And we’re not rushing back to Skyhold tonight? How terribly responsible of you.”</p><p>Catherine laughed. “I just got word this morning from Leliana that whoever this is, isn’t a threat.”</p><p>Dorian hummed as he handed the notes and salve back, and she could see the gears turning in his head. “So you’ll be meeting with whomever this is once we return?”</p><p>“That’s... the idea, I guess,” she agreed, suddenly feeling anxious as she put the notes away, but when she looked back up, Dorian was giving her an infinitely gentle smile.</p><p>“Well good, then. You deserve a good distraction from all this.” Then his grin turned a little wicked. “And now I’ll know to sleep with an extra pillow over my head to muffle out any moans coming from your tower for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>Catherine gave a surprised laugh and shoved his shoulder as her face heated up again. “That’s not—I'm not—”</p><p>“Oh, sure,” he waived away whatever she was going to try to say. “Whoever this is just wants you <em>blindfolded</em> to have a pleasant conversation about the weather this time of year in the south.” He rolled his eyes, but his gentle smile was back. “Just enjoy them however you please. And if they try something you dislike, simply throw them off the balcony.”</p><p>She laughed and smiled back at her friend before standing. “Well, I think you’ve got someone waiting to enjoy you, you know. I’ll see if I can find myself an extra pillow to muffle the sounds.”</p><p>Dorian scoffed, but she felt victorious at the slight blush that dusted his cheeks even as his mouth quirked a smile. “I take it all back. You’re a terrible friend and I hope it’s an assassin.”</p><p>Catherine laughed as she retreated to her room. While the confirmation from Leliana had been a relief, Dorian’s support was evidently what she’d needed to stop worrying so much.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone is interested, below is a link to the playlist I listen to while writing this story. <br/>https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5FYb-s0lUlDSO2HnLQxwlFAYz__QISHm</p><p>Also, ratings will start changing around chapter 15, but this is still a slow burn. A Very Slow Burn. Like, I have 20ish chapters to get us to Adamant. Another 20ish before Halamshiral. Then another 20 or so before the Temple of Mythal. And that's just what is written/planned so far.</p><p>So buckle up, y'all. We're in this for the long haul.</p><p>Anyway, thank you for reading. Stay safe and healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian has Catherine's back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander! Just the man I wanted to see. What do you say to another chess match?” Then Dorian’s hands landed on Cullen’s shoulders and forcefully turned him around and pushed him back towards his office. Cullen was too baffled to resist when he’d only just left the war room after Catherine and her party had safely returned from Crestwood once again. “What am I saying? Of course you want to play. Come, let’s go to your quarters. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation by thrashing you in public.”</p><p>“Dorian, what are you—”</p><p>“Come on, I must see if you’ve learned anything since the last time I beat you.”</p><p>Cullen’s face drained of color and let himself be pushed along as his mind spun. Did he know? Surely not, but then—</p><p>Dorian whirled on Cullen the moment his office door closed behind them.</p><p>“You’re the mystery midnight lover, yes?”</p><p>Cullen’s gut dropped and resisted the urge to look away, not having to feign confusion after the last few moments. “I don’t know—What are you—”</p><p>“Because if the person sneaking up to Catherine’s quarters and leaving her breakfast and notes and healing balms and having her sit blindfolded is not you, then the Inquisition would have quite the security risk on its hands, wouldn’t you say?”</p><p>Cullen paled again and swallowed, but nodded, unable to do much else under the glare of the mage. Dorian smiled, then, but something about it made <em>Danger</em>! shout in the back of Cullen’s mind.</p><p>“I’m glad you understand. So, let me ask again, you are the mystery midnight visitor?”</p><p>Cullen nodded again, and Dorian released his shoulders and relaxed, his smile turning more genuine and less cutting.</p><p>“Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m glad you decided to take the initiative. Teasing her on the way back had been quite amusing. You should have seen her blushing. Delightful.”</p><p>Cullen cleared his throat and could feel himself blushing too as he looked away.</p><p>“She deserves to have someone,” Cullen managed to say. Really there was a list long enough to go from his office to Val Royeaux about all the reasons he’d decided to try to help in this way, but he couldn’t bring himself to list them all out loud.</p><p>“Indeed,” Dorian agreed. “And in that vein, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but if you do hurt her, I’ll kill you, bring you back and kill you again. I can do that, you know. Necromancy and all that.”</p><p>Cullen shivered but nodded. Back at Haven, Cullen might have considered Dorian a threat to the Inquisition as his motives were fairly unclear at the time, but until now, he’d never actually found the man <em>frightening</em>. Later, he would think of it as a good thing that the man was so fiercely protective of Catherine, but in the moment, Cullen was just praying to the Maker that he would never have to face the man’s wrath.</p><p>“Good, then. I won’t keep you since you have a liaison to prepare for, I’m sure. Enjoy yourselves.” And with that, Dorian left, leaving Cullen too baffled to even wonder about the chess match.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Catherine scrubbed at her nails again, trying to get the dirt out from under them. After meeting with her advisors, she checked on the embrium and prophet’s laurel in the courtyard. Thankfully, they seemed to all be growing well, and then she rushed up to her room to bathe and rid herself of the dirt and maker only knew what else from the dragon and demons and highwaymen.</p><p>She’d washed her hair twice and scrubbed every inch of her skin until it was bright pink. All that was left were her nails, which seemed to be the most stubborn of all.</p><p>Eventually, she just had to call it good enough because her “guest" would arrive soon and she didn’t particularly fancy greeting them naked in a tub full of her washed off grime.</p><p>She dressed herself in her usual Skyhold outfit, basic leathers and vest, scarf, gloves and boots. While she wished she had something else, something more comfortable and less <em>Inquisitor</em>, it was either this, the clothes she wore under her armor—which she was <em>not</em> getting back into right after finally getting off all the grime—or her sleepwear which was a sad joke of an outfit: just an excessively large shirt she’d managed to get her hands on during the first trek to skyhold and had worn over her armor at night in the Frostbacks when any scrap of warmth she could get was welcome.</p><p>Finally, when her hair was braided up like she usually wore it during the day and she had put it off as long as she could, she sat on the settee by her bed and tied the silk over her eyes, trying to concentrate on counting her breaths as she settled in to wait.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Cullen fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves, unrolling and then carefully rolling them up for what was probably the hundredth time as he tried to get them even. She wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t even be able to see it, he knew, but it gave his hands something to do.</p><p>He was already dressed in all of his newly acquired clothing and he had washed the wax from his hair, leaving it loose and curly in a way that he hadn’t in years. His cologne had been applied and he had—embarrassingly—made sure that he would be able to lean into his ferelden accent just enough to sound slightly different. It was something he already slipped into occasionally when he was tired, unwilling to spend the effort on enunciation. It wasn’t as different as an accent from the free marches would be, but it wouldn’t be as difficult to remember, or to do.</p><p>Eventually, he decided he was as satisfied as he could be with his sleeves and knew that he was just wasting time. He took a deep breath before turning and heading up to the main keep. He was anxious, wondering if he’d put in the effort for nothing, if the silk would just be hanging on her door or if she would just immediately recognize him in spite of his precautions.</p><p>
  <em>Maker, give me strength.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door to the Catherine’s quarters were bare, much to Cullen’s surprise. He stared for a moment, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but finally forced his hand to knock.</p><p>“Come in,” he heard her call a moment later, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.</p><p>Steadying himself, he opened the door and headed up the last flight of stairs, eyes immediately drawn to where she sat with her back to the railing. At first he noticed the silk, by some miracle she’d actually trusted him enough to wear it, but then he noticed the stiff line of her posture and her clenched jaw. He couldn’t help a smile as he studied her. Somehow, seeing her be just as anxious soothed his own nerves.</p><p>Finally, he kneeled in front of her.</p><p>“My lady, may I have your hand?” It was a relief when his voice came out steady, and even more so when she didn’t seem to immediately recognize it. Instead, he watched her throat bob in a swallow, but offered her gloved hand out, palm up. He took it in both of his and turned it over before kissing her knuckles, feeling a pleasant sort of chill go up his spine at the quiet gasp that came from her.</p><p>In the morning, he would wonder what in the Maker’s name had gotten into him, where had his boldness come from, what in the world he was <em>thinking</em>. But those were thoughts for the morning, outside of her quarters, back in the light of day when she wasn’t sitting in front of him with a silk wrapped over her eyes, all for him.</p><p>“That is—you don’t have to do that. I promise, I’m not a lady, not since I came into my magic—not even before that, if you were to ask anyone who knew me—so you really don’t have to?”</p><p>Cullen chuckled. He was used to her quick wit, her decisiveness and her compassion. Seeing her flustered and babbling, though, was new to him.</p><p>“I disagree. You are the lady I have come to serve. Unless it bothers you?”</p><p>Catherine’s mouth opened and closed a few times, face turning almost as red as the silk that hid her eyes from him, but she eventually shook her head. “I don’t mind,” she admitted quietly, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.</p><p>“Then, my lady, is there anything you need of me?” He watched as her expression turned helpless, shoulders raising up, and he gave her hand another squeeze, trying to reassure that he wasn’t leaving her floundering on her own. He was there to support her however he could. “Is there anything that will make you more comfortable? I will do whatever you ask. Brush your hair, read you a story, listen to your travels, whatever you like.”</p><p>Having suggestions to choose from seemed to calm her, even if she was still a little unsure. “If you really don’t mind, then my hairbrush is on the table by my bed?” He pressed another kiss to her knuckles and stood to retrieve the brush and he heard her take a quiet, steadying breath. “Have you ever fought a dragon, Serah?”</p><p>Whatever he expected her to say, it wasn’t that, and he couldn’t help a laugh. “No, my lady, I can’t say I’ve ever had the, uh, pleasure.” He couldn’t really count Haven, nor did he want to think of it, especially as he sat back down next to her.</p><p>She laughed too, just a little, as she turned her back to him to let him do as he willed with her hair. She’d already brushed and braided it, of course, but once she felt his hands gently run against her scalp, untangling her braids, she didn’t care. His hands were so <em>warm</em>.</p><p>It took a moment for her to regain her train of thought.</p><p>“I can’t say I recommend it. There was a Northern Hunter that had taken roost next to Crestwood.”</p><p>“So that was what you were doing while you were away?”</p><p>She hummed in agreement, though also because his hand brushed against the back of her neck as he ran the brush through the first lock and it felt marvelous. When he did it again, she almost melted.</p><p>“Were you frightened, my lady?”</p><p>Her shoulders tensed and looked down, despite her eyes being covered. She hadn’t been allowed to be fearful at the Circle, else she would be accused of having done something wrong or been plotting something evil. She hadn’t been allowed to be scared at Haven, either showing weakness to her captors or failing to meet the hopes of those who had flocked to follow the Herald of Andraste. She wasn’t allowed to be frightened as the Inquisitor, with the world resting on her shoulders.</p><p>“Terrified,” she said quietly. With him, here, she hoped she was allowed to be more than her titles. His hands kept brushing her hair, as if he’d expected nothing else, and that calm reaction encouraged her to continue. “When my friend went down, I thought my heart would stop.” She shivered, and the man behind her paused his brushing to squeeze her shoulder before returning to brushing her hair, saying nothing and she took it as encouragement to continue, if she wanted. To her surprise, she did. “And when she turned her eyes on me...”</p><p>Unconsciously, her hand moved to rub at the spot where she’d been hit. Cullen had read in the report that she’d been slightly injured, but until he saw her rubbing at her arm, he hadn’t been too concerned. But that make him wonder if the injury was still unhealed.</p><p>“Is your arm alright, my lady?”</p><p>She seemed to snap awake and made to look back at him until she remembered she wouldn’t be able to see anyway. Instead she rubbed at her arm a little more.</p><p>“The Hunter spat lightening. I wasn’t fast enough to dodge completely.”</p><p>“Does it still hurt? May I take a look?”</p><p>In answer, she pulled off her gloves and rolled up her sleeve. She knew it was mostly healed, but magical injuries wouldn’t heal with mundane methods quite as well, and she and Dorian had been more concerned with Bull’s injuries. His hands gently touched the area, looking like a reddish tree growing out from every direction just beneath her skin. She held her breath, not wanting to make a fool of herself by sighing or making any other embarrassing sounds as he caressed the sensitive skin.</p><p>“Do you still have the balm I gave you?”</p><p>“On my desk.” She felt him move away and instantly missed the warmth. “Thank you for that, by the way. I’m not sure I would have been able to get my arm back into my armor without it.”</p><p>“I’m glad it helped.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice, and wondered what shape that smile took. He was fereldan, and he was a <em>he</em>, which she hadn’t known before he’d asked for her hand. She felt him settle behind her again and then felt his hand on her arm, gently positioning it with one hand as the other soothed the balm onto the injury, and she realized that, at the very least, he’d done work. His hands had callouses, though she couldn’t say what they were from with any certainty. He could have been a farmer or a blacksmith or a soldier. But they weren’t the hands of a noble who’d never seen a hard day’s work. Somehow, that warmed her just as much as the heat from his body behind her.</p><p>“Did you have any other injuries, my lady?”</p><p>“No, nothing that hasn’t already healed, at least. Thank you.”</p><p>“Shall I continue brushing your hair?”</p><p>“If you don’t mind, I would like that very much.”</p><p>She added his warm laugh to the things she knew about him. It warmed her belly like a drink of honey mead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're interested in what Catherine looks like, I made her in The Sims 4. If you search the gallery for #LikeQuiet, you can find her. Just make sure you enable CC. (I can't draw worth anything, otherwise I would have.) Eventually, for those of you who don't have The Sims, I plan to commission some art of her, though that will probably be for the Winter Palace which is a ways away.</p><p>Thanks for reading! Hope you have a great week.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian is Tired.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time Cullen left, it was more morning than night, but thankfully still dark enough to get back to his room unnoticed and to get a few hours' sleep before he would have to start his duties for the day. He’d ended up having to carry Catherine to her bed and tuck her in after she fell asleep as he braided her hair. Even as he untied the silk and laid it on the pillow next to her, he knew that the time taking care of her would be a good memory, one of his sweetest, and would guard it jealously.</p><p>The fact that she’d trusted him enough to fall asleep, even if fatigue had been building for weeks, was a shock. Cullen rubbed at his jaw, hurting not from clenching it for once, but from smiling so much.</p><p>She was so warm. Just like her smiles and her personality, her hands and arm and neck were so warm and soft beneath his.</p><p>Shaking himself as he walked into his quarters, he rolled his eyes even as his smile remained. He was starting to sound like the characters he’d studied for her, besotted from a single night. Then again, maybe there was more to those stories than he’d initially thought.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Catherine was confused when she woke. Instead of nightmares of red lyrium and <em>things</em> chasing her in the dark, she could only recall a blissful dream of a faceless man listening attentively to her ramblings, and she loathed to wake. Still, she knew she had work to do, and it couldn’t be kept waiting just for her to selfishly enjoy a languorous morning, basking in the glow of a restful night’s sleep.</p><p>With a full-bodied yawn, she sat up and stretched but paused when her hand landed on something much softer than her usual cotton bedsheets. She looked down and found a red slip of silk under her hand, and she stared blankly for a moment.</p><p>“Andraste’s ass.”</p><p>It had been <em>real</em>.</p><p>She felt her cheeks flame as she recalled his tender touches on her arm and the warmth of his calloused fingers against her neck and scalp.</p><p>Without her permission, a giggle bubbled up from her chest and she covered her mouth in surprise. Then she reached out to the silk again, feeling it glide between her fingers and caress her skin like a lingering embrace. She hunched over, pressing it to her lips as she smiled and tried to suppress another laugh. Maker, she was acting like a giddy child, but what else could she do? She was overcome with warmth for the almost-stranger and almost-lover who had endeavored to treat her like the heroine of some of her guilty pleasure novels.</p><p>She gave herself another moment, soaking up the decadence of the whole arrangement before she started to get up again, but as she turned to get out of the bed, she found a cup of water and a letter with a blank wax seal on it.</p><p>Well, she was already moving slowly that morning. Another moment wouldn’t hurt, she thought as she reached for the letter first.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest Lady,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you for allowing me your time last night. Any night you are at Skyhold and wish to have company, leave your door bare and wear the silk over your eyes. If you prefer solitude, leave the silk on the door and I will not disturb you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing would please me more than to ease the burden you carry. I hope last night helped in some small way. If you ever have a request, you need only ask and I will fulfill it gladly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until Midnight</em>
</p><p>Catherine covered her face with her hand, hiding her blush from the morning sun. He was still willing to indulge her, even after she’d just rambled about a dragon fight? Even after she’d evidently fallen asleep on him, and—Oh, Maker. He’d carried her to bed. Andraste’s <em>ass</em>.</p><p>She laughed aloud, feeling ebullient and helpless to reign it in.</p><p>Still, she eventually managed to steady herself enough to at least drink the water he’d prepared for her—and, Maker, when was the last time someone had done something like <em>that</em> for her? The time she’d come down with a fever when she was a child, before the circle?—and straightened out her clothing preparing for the day, even if she couldn’t quite wipe the smile from her face.</p><p>At the war table, her witlessness went unremarked upon, although she did catch some curious looks from Josephine and received a sly smile from Leliana which left Catherine blushing. Thankfully, her commander seemed not to notice as he stared at the map and his reports with great intensity. She made a mental note to talk to him later, maybe ask for another game of chess in order to persuade him to relax, if only a little.</p><p>But before she had the chance, he hurried off, saying he had work to do. Leliana’s smirk returned with another glance at Catherine before accompanying Josephine in her office, leaving Catherine alone. Instead of doing the hundred things she probably should, she found her feet leading her towards Dorian and what the whole of the Inquisition seemed to recognize as His Spot in the library.</p><p>“Ah, my dear Catherine, you are hale and whole. Glowing, even. Whatever could be cause?” His smirk was much less subtle than Leliana’s and his eyes almost glittered with mischief. <em>Sparkler, indeed</em>, she thought. Part of her wanted to escape, embarrassment at being carried to bed still tangling a knot in her gut, but she ungracefully flopped down on the floor next to his chair and picked a book from his stack at random, ignoring his huff at her messing up his organization system.</p><p>“Maybe I just had a pleasant night’s sleep, is all,” she evaded, while she subtly moved the bookmark to a different spot, just so it would annoy him later.</p><p>Still, he chuckled. “After a night like yours, yes, I’m sure it was. Now tell me, how was it? Everything you hoped from your so-called literature?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, but considered, tracing the lettering on the spine of the book as she did. “He was... warm,” she managed, heat coming back to her cheeks as she thought about how gentle he was, something that seemed all the more deliberate and tender when she remembered that, in spite of his careful touch, he possessed enough strength to, again, <em>carry her to bed</em>. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Dorian’s chuckle.</p><p>“Yes, well, if sex is cold you probably aren’t doing it right.” He paused, which gave Catherine a moment for her brain to catch up to Dorian’s words. “Then again, you southerners my romp around in the snow. What do I know?”</p><p>“W-What?” She sputtered. “No! We didn’t—I mean, what makes you think—I just meant he seemed... warm. In personality. Kind. We—uh—” Catherine cut herself off when she finally peeked up at Dorian’s expression from behind the tome she was clutching like a lifeline and he was looking at her like she’d grown a second head. “What?” Her voice was meek, and didn’t sound like her even to her own ears.</p><p>“You’re telling me he <em>didn’t</em> bed you?”</p><p>If someone threw a bucket of water over her head to put out a fire at that moment, she wouldn’t have been surprised given the heat that engulfed her, but she shook her head vigorously.</p><p>Dorian stared at her a moment longer before letting his head fall back to the back of the chair and dragging a hand over his face, muttering to himself in tevene.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Even though this is a story about Cullen and Catherine, Dorian is going to have a lot of time. I can't help it. He's my #1.</p><p>When DAI came out, it was around the same time that my (at the time) girlfriend was working up to telling her parents that she and I were not "just friends" after having been dating for nearly a year. Her *really* homophobic parents. So when I first saw a video of Dorian's scene with his dad, I started sobbing. Just like with my girlfriend at the time, I couldn't fathom any parent not being just bursting with pride and love for having a kid who is so unapologetically kind and ambitious.</p><p>Basically, my mission in life has since become to make him happy at all costs, even when he's not the main character of my fanfic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine hates the Western Approach.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Vishante kaffas</em>!” Dorian was pacing, looking like he was going to start throwing fireballs. “They didn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything. Yes, she looked happy. Yes, she looked like she’d had a good night’s sleep for the first time since I’ve met her, but <em>fasta vass</em>. He <em>braided her hair</em>? When her visitor decided to model his behavior after some lewd penny dreadful, I had thought that at least meant he would put his moxie to some kind of good use.”</p><p>When he briefly paused his pacing, Bull took advantage and wrapped a hand around his hip, pulling him to sit on the bed.</p><p>“Don’t distract me, I’m ranting,” Dorian scolded, though he didn’t sound particularly convinced of his own rebuke, especially when he hummed happily as Bull started running his lips over the man’s neck.</p><p>“Didn’t you say she seemed embarrassed when you asked?” Dorian made a positive sound, and Bull wasn’t sure if that was in response to his question or to his attention, but it didn’t matter. “Makes me wonder if she’s ever had sex.”</p><p>Dorian’s eyes opened wide, pulling away from Bull’s lips and turning to look at the man, gaping for a moment, before he stood up and shouted, again ready to start throwing fireballs.</p><p>“<em>Kaffas</em>!”</p><p>oOo</p><p>Catherine was able to pass a couple more nights in peaceful bliss under the careful hands of her mystery companion, talking about everything and nothing. It was just soothing to not have to talk about the Inquisition or decisions that needed to be made. And every time he prodded her for her feelings and accepted whatever they were without disdain or fear, she felt like their conversations were also a balm on something deep inside her that she’d kept buried so long, she hadn’t realized it even still existed.</p><p>Still, duty called, and soon she found herself in the Western Approach, fighting Venatori for control of a keep, and fighting wardens for control of the future of Thedas.</p><p>Blood magic. She had to suppress a shiver in spite of the oppressive heat of the desert. She understood that Wardens were desperate and respected their fear, but who could look at such an idea and think, <em>Ah, yes, a hole has been torn in the veil, let’s make a few more with some blood magic and halve our numbers in the process. That sounds like a </em>fantastic <em>idea</em>.</p><p>After that horror show, they decided to rest for the evening at Griffon Wing Keep before planning their next moves. She was glad that she was able to give Varric some more time with Hawke, at least, but she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to get any rest.</p><p>Amnesia. The Breach. Demons and smoldering bodies. Red lyrium. Herald. Time magic. Haven. Red templar behemoth. Archdemon. Darkspawn. And now blood magic and <em>more</em> demons.</p><p>The horrors just kept stacking up, compounding, and she knew more were to come and had no idea if she would be able to survive long enough to prevent them from terrorizing the whole of Thedas.</p><p>Thankfully, she was able to steal a few moments away from the nightly spiral of her thoughts thanks to a raven.</p><p>
  <em>Inquisitor,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Attached is a letter from the new quartermaster regarding Sutherland. Let me know if you would like me to reply.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Captain Rylen should arrive at Griffon Wing Keep within the week. He’s gruff, but a good man and good soldier. If anyone can turn the keep into a useful outpost, he can.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I believe we still haven’t come up with a bet for our next chess match. Have you thought of any? Otherwise the bet may just be, ‘whoever loses must come up with a bet.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I had a fright this morning when I saw that your prophet’s laurel had halved in size since last I saw it until Elan informed me that you took some cuttings before you left. I feared I had well and truly killed it. Maybe I should read something on basic horticulture.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stay safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen</em>
</p><p>She wanted to reply right away, making her bet be some trousers without sand in them, but she was too eager to read the next letter which had a small note next to the seal.</p><p>
  <em>If you wish to respond, I will see it gets to him. - L</em>
</p><p>Catherine’s heart squeezed, ever-grateful for the woman’s kindness, especially in this matter. She hoped could find she would have time to pick up something sweet from Val Royeaux on her way back to Skyhold as a small thank-you.</p><p>
  <em>Dearest Lady,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope this letter finds you well. Skyhold is much the same, busy with only a few corners of quiet, but while you are gone, its people miss you. If I may be so bold, I miss you. Your company the last few nights had chased a cold from my bones that I hadn’t truly known was there until it returned.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have long been amazed at your warmth. The glow of your smile soothes all those around you. The light of your compassion relieves even the most timid of their fears. The incalescence of your conviction has inspired change.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But now, I also know the heat of your skin against mine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Some part of me wonders if it was the spark of your magic that has lit the unquenchable flame in me, something I had thought long-buried. But then I remember your smile, your compassion, your conviction, and I know that it was not caused simply by your connection to the fade. Your warmth which has set me alight is as inherent to you as heat is to fire.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And my desire to have you safe and to be in your company again will smolder in me until your return when I can see for myself that you are safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would be glad if our time together is a comfort to you as well, and I hope my letters serve as a sufficient replacement until you return, though I make no claim to be a wordsmith. As ever, if there is anything I can do for you, even as I am not by your side, please do not hesitate to make a request and I will endeavor to fulfill it as best I can.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fight well</em>
</p><p>Later that night, when lying in her bedroll and finally rereading the letter from Cullen in order to respond after wasting away a candle reading her mystery lover’s letter again and again, she noticed that Cullen and her mystery visitor had similar handwriting. They both had a decisiveness to them, letters perfectly even and well-spaced. Though the letters from her visitor were softer and there were a few drips of ink that were scattered near the edges of the vellum, as if he had held a quill over the page as he thought. The thought warmed her chest almost as much as the letter itself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In case you're curious, Cullen tries to mimic his sister's handwriting when he writes to her as her mystery visitor.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine continues to hate the Hissing Wastes</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Cullen, </em> </p>
<p><em> Go ahead and gear up Sutherland and his crew. They’ve been doing good work, deserve to have some good armor to go with it. </em> </p>
<p><em> We’re going to have to figure out a different water source for the keep before it becomes useful.  </em> <em> Venatori </em> <em>  dumped bodies. Well is putrid. There’s some water here, but it’s surrounded by rifts at the moment, so we’ll be handling that in the morning. </em> </p>
<p><em> This time, the only bet I can think of is for clothes not filled with sand. I regret complaining about the rain in Crestwood. I’ll take being soggy to my bones any day over having sand chafing under my armor and against a sunburn.  </em> </p>
<p><em> Prophet’s laurel was put to use today in our fight against the Wardens and demons in that we consumed several health potions. Have a feeling that I’m going to need quite a bit more of it soon. </em> </p>
<p><em> I’m about to get even more dour, so I’ll end it here. Hope you’re well. </em> </p>
<p><em> Catherine </em> </p>
<p>Catherine tried to shake herself of her misery at the thought of how much she hated every single blighted thing about the Western Approach and how much she would love to just let the demons and the darkspawn have it if it would just fall into the sea. But she also thought that, maybe, her mystery visitor would let her vent without thinking poorly of her. </p>
<p><em> Serah</em><em>, </em> </p>
<p><em> You claim not to be a wordsmith, yet your letter has left me smiling like a fool. And making me smile while in this blighted wasteland is a feat, especially after today’s trials. </em> </p>
<p><em> Of all the miserable places in  </em> <em> Thedas </em> <em> , this might be the worst. Not just because of the  </em> <em> detestable </em> <em>  climate and sand in my smallclothes, but also because of the rather wretched company to be found here. I bit my lip to bleeding to keep from crying. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do enough to prevent this chaos from enveloping the whole of  </em> <em> Thedas </em> <em> . </em> </p>
<p><em> I’ll do everything I can, but, Maker, I keep encountering new monstrosities that even my terror-filled nightmares hadn’t been able to previously conjure. </em> </p>
<p><em> I hate to respond to your gentle prose with my ugly grousing, but I’m afraid I can’t chase it from my mind. I hope you will forgive my boorishness. </em> </p>
<p><em> Your letter has truly left me soothed, and I hope to receive more. I promise I will endeavor to respond more in-kind next time. </em> </p>
<p><em> Catherine </em> </p>
<p>oOo </p>
<p>After reading the reports, Cullen wasn’t surprised at Catherine’s bleakness. He wished he could do more, do something to keep more atrocities from piling onto her shoulders, but he knew there was little else he could do.  </p>
<p>For the Inquisitor, the Commander trained his troops and oversaw the calibration of the trebuchets and training of her troops. </p>
<p>For Catherine, Cullen wrote to her, giving her stories and what few assurances he could without them ringing hollow.  </p>
<p><em> Inquisitor, </em> </p>
<p><em> Sutherland and his crew have been equipped with the best the Inquisition has to offer. I’m sure it will be put to good use. </em> </p>
<p><em> Leliana </em> <em>  was able to acquire some more prophets laurel seeds. They’ve been planted and are being tended to by someone much better than me with plants. I am assured that they should start sprouting by the time you return.  </em> </p>
<p><em> I hope this good news brightens your spirits a little. I know little can in the face of what you’ve seen, but I find its good to appreciate good news when you can find it. I will pass along any more I can find. </em> </p>
<p><em> Please take care. </em> </p>
<p><em> Cullen </em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Dearest Lady, </em> </p>
<p><em> I’m glad that my letter carved out a small space of  </em> <em> happiness for </em> <em>  you. I hope they continue to do so, but please feel no obligation to respond in kind to any of my writing. You needn’t wear any façade for me. I wish only to serve you, to care for you, and I feel that listening to any concerns or worries you otherwise keep locked away may be the only way I can do so while at a distance. </em> </p>
<p><em> I know it is a heavy burden you carry, but you do not have to carry it alone. You have friends who care for you as deeply as your cause. </em>  <em> You can always lean  </em> <em> on </em> <em>  them when you’re unable  </em> <em> to handle your responsibilities on your own.  </em> </p>
<p><em> And while I know this doesn’t solve the nightmares or memory of the terrors you face, I will be here for you upon your return, ready to serve in whatever means you allow to help you forget for a while.  </em> </p>
<p><em> Be safe </em> </p>
<p>Cullen kept the letters from Catherine to the man who visited her at night, despite knowing that he would be found out easily if anyone saw them, if <em> she  </em>saw them, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of them. Nor could he even bring himself to get rid of the letters addressed to him directly. He did, at least, keep them locked away in his chest along with the clothing he wore only to visit her, managing to temper his desire to keep them close at all times when he couldn’t be near her. </p>
<p>Even back at Haven, he found his eyes following her, searching for her. She, a prisoner under suspicion of murdering the Divine—and a mage in shackles flanked by the Right and Left Hands of the Divine, no less—had readily risked her life to charge towards the still-burning Temple of Sacred Ashes to try to put an end to the chaos. Despite most assuredly being dazed and confused and overwhelmed by the whole situation, her expression had been determined during that first moment he’d met her in the field.  </p>
<p>Then, when she miraculously survived stabilizing the Breach—after having already miraculously survived<em>  falling out of it </em>—she had eagerly agreed to help the Inquisition try to restore order, in spite of the new title that she obviously found frightening, and had thrown herself into helping. She gathered herbs and metal and even tried her hand at logging to help Threnn and Harritt make more swords for the new recruits. She was terrible at it and had nearly chopped her foot the first time, but she’d just given a sheepish grin and tried again. Even then, her smile and effort were able to boost the morale of anyone near her. </p>
<p>Looking back, Cullen was a lost cause from the start, from the moment he met her on the field. </p>
<p>He didn’t realize it, though, until she walked out of the Chantry, ready to face an archdemon and an army in order to save as many as she could. Her surprised expression when Cassandra, Varric and Dorian had followed her out the doors would be burned into his mind forever. She’d expected to go out alone, had been ready to go without a second thought. </p>
<p>Cullen was proud to work with a person with such compassionate conviction that she would throw herself in the way of an archdemon if it meant keeping others safe. He was proud to call himself a friend of a person who cared enough to find blankets and hunt rams for refugees in the middle of a war. He was proud to be the companion of a woman who was as concerned for the personal well-being of everyone around her as she was of their mission as a whole. </p>
<p>As he stared at the places where the ink of her letters was splotched from water drops, it also terrified him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rating will change with the next chapter or two to a M rating. Still will be months before it changes to E. It will eventually, I promise, but it's gonna be a while. I'm going to earn that slow burn tag.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen gets thirsty.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Any word from Hawke or Stroud?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana</span>
  <span> shook her head. “Nothing yet. But my agents have delivered maps of the layout of the fortress.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And I am in negotiation with several of my contacts on acquiring siege equipment for an assault of the fortress, if it comes to that.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Catherine said, shifting her weight to her left foot, trying to distract herself from the relentless throb of pain in her abdomen. She hoped the others wouldn’t be able to notice her clenched jaw or fidgeting. “Cullen, any word from </span>
  <span>Verchiel</span>
  <span>?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No incidents arose, though I have it on good authority that there were many closed-door meetings among the nobility. Several useful names will be sending diplomatic envoys. Potential future gains may be impressive,” he said, passing a few letters over to Josephine. “Do not tell Sera I said so,” he added with a small smile, and he tried not to look too concerned as he automatically noted the dark circles under Catherine’s eyes and the strain in her jaw and neck.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She managed to briefly return the smile. “Anything else?” At the shake of their heads, Catherine couldn’t help the relived sigh. “Then if you don’t mind, I’m going to go get the sand out of my... </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As they were walking out, </span>
  <span>Leliana</span>
  <span> paused at the door with a too-soft smile. “Ah, I almost forgot. Thank you for the chocolates, Inquisitor. They arrived just a day ahead of you.” Cullen watched with confusion as a blush swept across Catherine’s face.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So they arrived, then. Good. I just wanted to say, uh, thank you. For taking care of that—that matter for me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen managed to catch Josephine’s eye before he left for the main hall as she sat down at her desk, and she just gave him a dainty shrug. He returned it, much less gracefully, before turning to head back to his office, wondering if he would be able to help with whatever problem Catherine seemed to be having.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually Catherine managed to escape the polite teasing of </span>
  <span>Leliana</span>
  <span>—Catherine was positive that was what the spymaster was doing, even if it seemed like a pleasant conversation about </span>
  <span>orlesian</span>
  <span> chocolates to anyone else—and get up to her room to finally strip out of her sand-crusted clothing and wash the sand out of every nook and cranny she didn’t even know she had. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The hot water soothed the ache at the bottom of her spine and while the water turned color fairly quickly, she still soaked there for several minutes as she tried to work up the motivation to deal with her sand- and sweat-crusted hair. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Not for the first time, she half-considered just chopping it off, but the memory of the draft of the circle’s library brushing up against her neck had always cut that thought short. Since Haven, the idea of losing the natural warmth of her long locks was even less appealing. Even in the heat of the tub, she shivered against the memory of the bone-deep cold she’d felt as she’d forced herself through the mountains. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine curled up in the warm water, hugging her knees to her chest, flinching at the pain in her abdomen and back, but desperate for warmth in the face of the frigid memory. She waved a hand to cast another small heating spell on the water, instantly filling the room with another cloud of steam. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was a few moments before she noticed herself sniffling and realized her face was wet with more than just the bath water. The memory of Haven was always emotional, but she took a deep breath from between quivering lips to try to calm herself, knowing it wasn’t just the memory leaving her feeling cold and vulnerable. It was the culmination of what she’d seen in the Western Approach, all the atrocities that she’d seen up to that point, and the pain that was churning in her gut that felt like someone’s hands trying to knit a scarf from her innards. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once the water cooled again, Catherine gave up on her hair, resolving to deal with properly wash it in the morning. With a sigh, she forced herself into her </span>
  <span>Skyhold</span>
  <span> Outfit and throwing her hair into a quick braid—hoping that would be enough to hide the lack of care she’d put into it—and then finally sat and hoped he wouldn’t be offended by her armor still laying on the floor in a pile of sand as she settled in to wait.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen tried to keep himself busy with reports, keep himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>productive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as he waited for it to be time to head towards Catherine’s quarters, but he found his mind wandering. She’d looked so tired, and much as she’d tried to hide it, he saw her flinching with pain now and again through the meeting. He suspected that was why Josephine and </span>
  <span>Leliana</span>
  <span> were also glad to end the meeting earlier than usual, since if he noticed, they both surely had.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Giving up on the reports, he went to the</span>
  
  <span>blessedly empty infirmary to gather some bandages and potions</span>
  <span>,</span>
  <span> just in case she had some remaining injuries. It killed some time, at least, as he collected it all and prepared a couple of poultices and finally dressed. It was still early</span>
  <span> by</span>
  <span> nearly an hour, but</span>
  <span> he hoped</span>
  <span> she wouldn’t mind. </span>
  
  <span>He walked slowly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was, of course, still early when he arrived at her door, but he knocked and was grateful for her to call for him to enter. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Steam still clung to the windows and he could smell the oils she used from the stairs as he mounted them, finding her sitting on her bed this time. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took his knee in front of her again, has he had taken to doing since the first time he visited her quarters, and asked for her hand. In part, he repeated it with every visit like a ritual because the familiarity of it, now, seemed to soothe her. But </span>
  <span>he</span>
  <span> also enjoyed it for the blush that always dusted her cheeks when he kissed her hand.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” he asked, still kneeling with her hand in his, watching her fidget, no matter how subtle she tried to be. “Do you have any injuries?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, none remaining, at least.” She managed a small smile and he squeezed her hand before letting it drop before he set down the pouch of supplies he’d brought as he looked her over.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me, my lady, but you still seem... uncomfortable.” He watched as she bit her lip and saw her cheeks redden some, confusing him all the more. “Is there anything I can do?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-uh. It’s nothing. Just... my, ah, bleeding started this morning.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen had to hold back a sigh of relief. Her discomfort kept him from it, but at least it meant she wasn’t injured. She was fidgeting with her hands, so instead he put his hand on her leg, just above the top of her boot so she would feel it.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help? Is there anything that I can do to make you more comfortable?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His chest squeezed at the small, grateful smile she gave, but still just shrugged.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it be too gauche if I were to lay down?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen just gave a small huff as he stood. “Of course not.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled again and moved to crawl up her bed, but he paused as she watched. Surely she wasn’t actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though. Scarf, vest, gloves, </span>
  <em>
    <span>boots</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, my lady, would you not be more comfortable wearing something else?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She paused as she tried to get situated and looked towards the direction of his voice, even if she couldn’t see him. “My other clothing is,” she paused, looking for a word. “Not the most becoming,” she settled on, giving a small helpless laugh. “Not that this is particularly enchanting either, but it’s a far step up, I promise you.” Maker, maybe she should have taken up Vivienne’s suggestion of seeing her tailor. Had she known she’d have someone visiting her at night like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she would have.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen gave a laugh and moved to sit lightly on the edge of her bed and turned to run his hand over her cheek, flattered that she was concerned about how she looked around him, but also preferred her to just be comfortable. Not to mention he was certain she would be lovely in anything. “I assure </span>
  <span>you,</span>
  <span> it is never just your clothing that makes you enchanting, my lady.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He felt her warm cheek grow hot under his hand and, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maker</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wasn’t that a heady feeling. Luckily, she nodded and he pulled away his hand so she could move before he could make a fool of himself. She sat up again and pulled off her gloves and scarf before pulling at the clasps on her vest, and Cullen immediately felt his own face flame.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I-ah, can go? If you want privacy to change?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She paused and turned towards him again, flushing again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right, not everyone grew up in a Circle without any privacy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Most people don’t just get naked in front of someone they’re not bedding.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, would you mind just... turning around?” She felt ridiculous. She wouldn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>if he was turned around. She heard shuffling nearby, and then a brief silence before he seemed to come to the same realization.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not looking, I swear.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen could have sworn he heard a muffled laugh from behind him and, Maker, he had to smother the feeling himself, at least until he heard the sound of buckles and clothing hitting the floor. Then he stared very studiously at the backs of his eyelids and recited the chant in his head until he felt a hand touch his back, gliding up cautiously until it reached his shoulder.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m, well, ‘decent’ isn’t the word for it, but covered, at least.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen turned, and opened his mouth, but whatever he had been about to say died on his tongue along with his ability to think. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t entirely sure ‘covered’ was the word for it either. She was in a tunic seemingly made for someone the size of a </span>
  <span>Qunari</span>
  <span>—Cullen pushed away the brief flash of old jealousy for Bull. The mercenary didn’t even seem to </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>any shirts to lend anyone even if the rumors of them being intimate had been true—but that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wore. The sleeves were rolled, unevenly, to show most of her forearms. The neck was either stretched out or made for someone with a torso twice the size of hers as it was hanging off one shoulder and barely clung to the other. Then, her </span>
  <em>
    <span>legs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maker give me strength.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>More of her legs were showing than not. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Much </span>
  </em>
  <span>more.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Were a desire demon ever come to him in this form, he had no doubt he would crack within a single breath.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He wrenched his eyes away, reminding himself with some effort that he hadn’t come here to gawk, but by the time he managed it, her hand was dropping from his shoulder and her cheeks were flushed, as she looked away from him with a hunch to her shoulders. “Like I said, not exactly enchanting, but—”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen took her hand back in his and pres</span>
  <span>sed his lips to her knuckles again.</span>
  <span>, trying his very best to keep ahold of himself, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maker</span>
  </em>
  <span>, could she really not think she looked like the very epitome of desire personified?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Enchanting? No.” Cullen didn’t even recognize his voice despite the heavy brogue slipping away. Instead, he sounded like he’d been parched in a desert without a drop of water for days. It felt like it too, like she was an oasis and it took everything in him to not throw himself at her all while praying it wasn’t a mirage. “You are more than that, my lady.” She shivered against him, and Maker, if that didn’t do things to him. Still, he forced himself half a step away, lest his own desires become too evident and make her uncomfortable. “If you are more comfortable, please, lie down and tell me how I can help.”</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. It's only Tuesday and I'm having a Bad Week, so you all get an extra chapter because these two doofuses make me happy. You will still get your regular chapter update on Monday.</p><p>2. Went ahead and changed to rated M because this chapter dips its toes into the fun and the next two chapters will have more. (I'm sorry, Cullen.)</p><p>3. Hope you all have a good week. Stay safe and healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen gets mad, mostly at himself.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catherine swayed on her feet, feeling off-balance from the </span>
  <span>change</span>
  <span> in his voice </span>
  <span>that warmed</span>
  <span> her </span>
  <span>to her toes</span>
  <span>, but managed to force her feet to move towards the bed and lay down as he’d instructed, still holding his hand even as she tried to get comfortable.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I help?” His voice was still quiet</span>
  <span> with an undercurrent of that </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever-it-was</span>
  </em>
  <span> that left her blushing</span>
  <span>, but gentler this time once she’d settled into the least-miserable position she could find.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really know. I usually just suffer silently for a week or so,” she said with a little laugh, and the sound made his heart squeeze. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there nothing that helps?” Cullen perched himself of the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up over her to keep out the chill she surely felt wearing... </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hummed and snuggled under the blankets more giving his hand a little squeeze as thanks.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bath and sleep. Honestly, I haven’t tried much. In the Circle, it wasn’t a good idea to draw attention to yourself, especially if blood was involved, mundane or no.” Cullen, suddenly, felt an anger towards Templars on behalf of mages that felt wholly unfamiliar. He’d grown up with his sisters, his mother. There have always been women at the Circle. There were women who were </span>
  <em>
    <span>Templars</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Surely something so mundane couldn’t truly draw suspicion? Corners of his mind, however, whispered that he knew mages had been punished for far less.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surely other mages had some way to find relief?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine burrowed further under the blankets, covered up to her nose, now, and in spite of his own swirl of emotions, and his sympathy for her pain, he still couldn’t help a small smile at how adorable she looked.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you brush my hair?” she asked quietly, slightly muffled by the by the blankets, and he squeezed </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span> hand before retrieving her hairbrush and settling himself onto the bed behind her and started unwinding her braid. He was quiet as he worked, sensing she still wanted to talk but was trying to figure out what to say, and he allowed her the space.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a concoction several mages would mix, </span>
  <span>witherstalk</span>
  <span> and </span>
  <span>rashvine</span>
  <span> among others—I never learned the full recipe—to force their bleeding to stop. Permanently.” Cullen’s eyebrows rose. “Not everyone did</span>
  <span>, obviously.</span>
  <span> Drinking poison, after all, wasn’t ideal, but... Many found it better than the </span>
  <span>alternative.</span>
  <span> Better than having a child they had carried for months torn from their arms, never to be seen again. Better than being accused of blood magic for something the Maker made our bodies do.” She took a breath, snuggling down more as her forehead creased. “Better than having to carry a reminder of someone abusing their power</span>
  <span> for months.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s breath stopped. He stared at the back of her head, throat dry, rage and horror mixing in his gut, along with a certain fear, and he didn’t know if he could give it voice. If he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knew that the Order was able to commit atrocities. He’d seen it with Meredith. He’d even believed in it, once, but that, that was something he could never abide, never—He’d been too naïve in Kinloch to know of anything happening, then too bitter and blinded by his own hate to think of mages as people, as someone a Templar might— </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maker, give me the strength to be a better man.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>My lady, you</span>
  <span> don’t have to answer, </span>
  <span>and I won’t think less of you either way, </span>
  <span>but did anyone ever</span>
  <span>...?” He</span>
  <span> couldn’t finish the thought, pain at the mere suggestion of it closing his throat, and he nearly collapsed with relief when she shook her head and hated himself for it.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I was, ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>disliked </span>
  </em>
  <span>by the Templars, and the fact that I attracted attention made most of the other mages avoid me too. When the First Enchanter took me under her wing, it meant I was protected from—Well, no one wanted me, no one tried anything, so poisoning myself wasn’t necessary.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s hand shook as he tried to resume brushing her hair. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He cursed his inability to find words, to say something to make her feel better, to make her be able to forget the fears she’d had at the Circle, but all that came was a quiet, “You’re safe </span>
  <span>here. Wanted</span>
  <span> here.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard her take a long, slow breath. Then the blankets fell down from hiding most of her face and he could see a small smile on her lips. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, the silence was companionable, even if both were still lost in their thoughts, as Cullen continued brushing her hair until he heard soft, steady breathing from her. Gently, he re-braided her hair, left her brush and a cup of water next to her bed, but before he gathered his things to leave, he noticed her armor still sitting in a sandy heap on the floor. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned and sat down on her couch and set himself to work, cleaning and polishing her armor before putting it properly on its stand.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen looked up from his desk and wordless reports to find Catherine in his room, eyes bare along with the majority of the rest of her. She was wearing only the oversized shirt and a gentle smile that seemed to light up her whole face.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cullen,” she murmured as one of her hands warmed his face and the other roamed up his bare chest. Only then did he realize that he was shirtless and the shirt she wore wasn’t the oversized one, but his own. It clung to her more closely and somehow bared even more of her legs.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catherine,” he replied, voice hoarse from a dry throat even as he drank in the sight of her. He wanted to reach out, pull her closer, feel the warmth of her under his hands instead of just against his face and on his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. She pushed him back towards the bed and he fell weightlessly into it as she climbed over him, warmth of her thighs heating more than his sides where their skin touched. “Catherine,” he repeated like a prayer, like he was begging the Maker for her to come closer, but she had more power over Cullen than He ever had.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to turn his head, to press a kiss into her palm, anything to return the gift of her affection and desire, but her hand just moved to the other side of his face, letting it warm as her smile turned mischievous. He wanted to drop to his knees, beg her to let him touch her, for her to move closer.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned down, mouth hovering just over his, close enough he could feel her breath caress his lips where he only wanted to feel her flesh.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catherine, please—”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen woke to a face full of pillow and sunbeams stretching across his face and chest.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned, both wishing he could fall back into the first blissful dream he’s had in longer than he could remember and willing the memory of it away as he tried to pull himself fully awake, knowing without any thought that his bottom half was far more alert than his mind.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the sake of having to meet her eyes in the war room, he was glad he’d woken up when he had. But a small part of him lamented how even in his dreams he couldn’t move closer than a soft touch.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grunting, Cullen pulled himself out of his bed and pulled on trousers, doing his best to ignore the tightness of his trousers as he dressed, knowing the problem would eventually go away.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, he could take care of the result of his dream in another way, Maker knew he’d... </span>
  <em>
    <span>handled </span>
  </em>
  <span>his morning wood more than once in his life—and, ashamedly, knew that it wouldn’t even be the first time he’d spilled into his own hand with her face in his mind—but couldn’t bring himself to as he thought about the night before.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d been breathtaking, of course, but unlike the version of her in his dream, she’d been uncomfortable and in pain, for reasons more than just her body’s natural rhythm. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh, he slid down his ladder and sat at his desk to write a letter. There wasn’t much he could do to ease the pain of her past, but he could at least try to help her with the pain of the moment.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Black Lives Matter</p>
<p>2. Today was another Bad Day, which means using fanfiction to force it into a Less Bad Day</p>
<p>3. Talk to me about that Dragon Age video from yesterday. I am romancing Bird Lady with Sword for sure. Though the Norse Aquaman is a solid #2.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine is embarrassed and Dorian is #1 wingman.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine tried desperately to not feel embarrassed when she woke up in the morning and took off the silk to find her armor pristine and on its stand. But, Maker, she was fairly certain that wasn’t a battle she could win. </p><p>He’d cleaned her armor. After listening to her discussions of the circle that, really, were not generally a topic of polite conversation—that didn’t make them any less true, but still not exactly something to talk about with someone <em> while in bed </em> . All this after the fact that she mentioned it was her bleeding—he'd asked and while not inherently embarrassing, it was  <em> personal </em>—and then changed into the least attractive outfit in all of Skyhold. Possibly all of Thedas. </p><p>She sighed, Dorian’s exasperation echoing in her mind as she ran her hand through her hair anxiously. Well, she tried to, but found it still braided and then remembered that her visitor had also brushed and braided it. After she had decided to wait until morning to wash it. </p><p>“Maker, please, just strike me now,” she groaned into her hands. </p><p>First order of business for the morning: <em>Wash your bloody hair, Catherine. </em> </p><p>Second: <em>Find Vivienne’s tailor. Or Dorian’s. Or Josephine’s. Just  </em> any  <em> bloody tailor. </em> </p><p>Third: <em>Pretend last night never happened and try to remember your manners next time. If he bothers with coming again, that is. </em> </p><p>“Andraste’s <em>ass</em>.” </p><p>Two hours and a very thorough hair-washing later, Catherine had to keep herself from sprinting to Dorian’s Spot. </p><p>“Dorian, I need your help,” she said before she even had cleared the bookshelf enough to see him. She needed this done as soon as possible, even knowing that it wouldn’t be in time for her companion’s next visit. </p><p>“Of course you do. I’m very helpful. So what is it today? Translation from tevene? Magical theory?” he replied before even looking up. When he did, though, he saw her hair was still damp and her face was flushed despite the desperation in her expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his book down, suddenly concerned it was serious. </p><p>“I—It’s, well. I have nothing to wear.” </p><p>Dorian was more confused and tilted his head as he looked her over, obviously clothed. And then quirked an eyebrow at her. “You can do better than that outfit, of course. Could use a few more options, too, but you do appear to be quite dressed.” </p><p>“No, its. Oh, <em> Maker </em>.” She covered her face with her hands and said something else, but it was muffled. </p><p>“Come again?” </p><p>He heard her groan and then dropped her hands, giving him a pleading look. “Please, just come with me. I—showing you will be easier.” </p><p>“Lead on, then.” There have been several times since Dorian has joined the Inquisition that he has been thrown off-balance. Usually that involved magic, historical impossibilities or archdemons—or some combination thereof—but seeing Catherine so flustered in the morning was certainly new to him. </p><p>Once they arrived at her quarters, he watched Catherine walk over to her dresser and then pause. She glanced back at him briefly before mumbling something under her breath and then grabbing something out. </p><p>When she turned back around, she was facing him with a shirt made for someone more the size of his lover than her and was staring at him like this was all the explanation he should need. Instead he cocked his head to the side again. </p><p>“My dear Catherine, please don’t tell me those books have finally rotted your brain. I have no idea what you’re trying to get help with unless you want me to somehow magic up a spell that lets you be three times your size.” </p><p>“No! Maker, Dorian,” she took a breath to steel herself. “This,” she shook the shirt for emphasis “Is all I have to wear. At night. For <em>him</em>.” </p><p>Finally, the pieces snapped together, and Dorian felt a smirk spreading across his face and watched as her face grew redder at the same time. Finally, there was some progress between her and the Commander. Took him long enough. “I see, now that wasn’t so hard to say now, was it? I take it he’s taken some initiative, then?” </p><p>Then she tilted her head in confusion this time. “What do you mean?” </p><p>He stared, and then his smirk dropped all at once as he closed his eyes and silently prayed for strength. “Still? <em>Vishante</em><em>kaffas </em>. He still hasn’t bedded you,” Dorian grumbled to himself, silently wondering if maybe he should speak to Blackwall. The man would have to have a bath first, of course, but he at least seemed like he might be more a man of action than Cullen.  </p><p>“What? No! No, nothing like that.” When Dorian opened his eyes again, her face was as red as an apple and she was twisting the oversized shirt in her hands, eyes averted to the balcony. “It’s—he, well, why would he? It’s not like—well, <em> this </em> wouldn’t encourage anyone anyway.” Her eyes met his again as she shook the shirt in between them. He stared at her like she’d grown a second head. </p><p>“You’ve never had sex, have you?” It wasn’t much of a question, but Catherine gave an undignified snort of laughter in answer anyway. </p><p>“With who? I was eight when I went to the circle, and it was very clear that most everyone there hated me, and those who didn’t certainly weren’t interested in fucking me.” </p><p>Suddenly, the image of setting fire to the whole of the south came to mind and Dorian had to take a steadying breath to make sure he didn’t accidentally set alight her curtains. </p><p>“Jealousy, all of it, I’m certain. A beautiful and powerful mage? I would wager you had a dozen secret admirers who were too timid to approach you. Their loss.” </p><p>Catherine snorted again and rolled her eyes as she looked at Dorian fondly. “Oh, yes, I’m sure they were all just silently pining after the girl with a tooth gap and boyish body who was always in trouble. Ostwick Circle’s most fuckable bachelorette.” </p><p>Dorian stared at her for a moment as the horror of realization struck him. She didn’t think others found her desirable. <em> The l</em><em>unacy</em><em>! </em> </p><p>“My dear Catherine, you are without a doubt entirely beautiful and quite desirable, both physically and in personality.” </p><p>She laughed outright this time for a moment before smirking at her friend. “I appreciate it, Dorian, but forgive me if I can’t quite take your word on that since I’m about as far from being a potential object of your desire that one could be.” </p><p>Dorian scoffed. “If anything, that just makes me the impartial observer, perfectly unbiased. As such, I assure you, you are utterly fuckable.” </p><p>She rolled her eyes again but smiled at her friend. She had several years’ experience stacked up in opposition to his declaration, but she loved him for caring anyway. “Fuckable or not, this isn’t doing me any favors.” She tossed the shirt at Dorian, which he caught with a look of disgust, like it’s existence in his presence was an affront to his very person.  </p><p>“Fine, yes, this rag does you a disservice, but I assure you, even something like this wouldn’t prevent your visitor from finding you fetching.” She gave him an unconvinced look and he sighed, giving up for the moment—just for the moment, as there was a pressing issue at hand, but he absolutely planned to revisit the topic—and threw the offending nightwear back towards her. “I presume you’re wanting to wear something more befitting than an ogre’s threadbare hand-me-down?” She nodded eagerly. “And other than <em> that </em>, what have you been wearing?” She just gestured to herself and it took him a minute to realize what she meant. He gave a long-suffering sigh. </p><p>Even if they weren’t sleeping together, Dorian had hoped she would at least be enjoying herself a little more, taking advantage of the opportunity to get pampered. Evidently, that wasn’t the case. </p><p>“I believe this calls for reinforcements.” </p><p>“Reinforcements?” </p><p>“We need Josephine.” Catherine groaned in response, but Dorian fastened his smirk back in place. “In spite of my considerable talent, your ‘shirt’ is a case too difficult for me alone. Just wait a moment. I’ll go get her and we, by which I mean <em> you </em>, can buy the ambassador’s silence with chocolate. Maybe we should even have a tailor whip up something for Winter Palace. And a few more things to wear around Skyhold during the day.” </p><p>She sighed. “Alright, yes, fine.” </p><p>“And while we’re at it, we could always have something whipped up for if you’re wanting to wear something especially seductive for your visitor.” </p><p>Catherine’s face flushed again. “That’s, I don’t think that’s, uh... necessary.” </p><p>Dorian smirked back before turning to head down the stairs. “Necessary? Of course not. You’re enticing enough even in the garb of an ogre. But it won’t hurt to have something a little extra tempting.” </p><p>The door shut behind him before she could come up with a retort, and she was certain she was blushing down to her toes. Oh, Maker, she hoped he wasn’t going to actually ask Josephine to find someone who could make her something like <em>that </em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday. Take care of yourselves and each other. Let's have a good week.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen has it bad. Catherine thought Cullen disliked her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All day, Cullen’s dream clung to him like his shadow. When he was training the Inquisition’s forces, the memory of the warmth of her hand would return to him unbidden, leaving him flushed from more than just exertion of demonstrations. When he was in the war room meeting, he could barely look at Catherine without losing track of his own sentences. When she asked him to a game of chess, he agreed without hesitation, as he always would when her gentle smile was pointed in his direction. She beat him handily, which left her grinning and him fighting a blush. </p>
<p>Finally, as the day ended, Cullen stared at his costume and wondered if he would be able to get through the evening with her. Or at least get through it without embarrassing himself. </p>
<p>More than once during their game of chess, when she smiled in the most mischievous way when she thought she had him, he had to adjust himself as subtly as he could.  </p>
<p>Maker take him, but he didn’t know if he would be able to get away with that subtlety if she was in that shirt again—which he hoped for on account of both his own selfish reasons and for the sake of her own comfort as well—and if she was close to him.  </p>
<p>Thankfully, he still had time. </p>
<p>Though he had to change his entire outfit, for this he only unlaced his trousers before taking himself, half-hard already, in hand. He intended to make it perfunctory, for the sake of trying to salvage any sense of calm he could come morning when she would be able to meet his eyes again, but the shirt that lay innocently on his bed—the one she had worn in his dream—taunted him. </p>
<p>His eyes closed as he fell back into the dream, though this time he imagined being able to touch her. He imagined being able to slide his hands over her thighs where they caged his hips, being able to slide his hands up to meet the hem of where his shirt draped over them, being able to slide his hands further up to her hips before guiding her down onto him. He imagined her expression, going from tender to mischievous to passionate as she sought her own satisfaction.  </p>
<p>He imagined her smile after, when she would curl up against him, looking happy and without a care in the world. </p>
<p>With a groan, he spent into his hand and then sighed to himself. </p>
<p>He still craved her even as he washed his hand of the sticky remains of his desires. He craved her physically, of course, but more than that, he craved her smile. Craved seeing it content and carefree, without the shadow of her past or the weight of her present or the fear of that ever-looming future. </p>
<p>Thankfully, he did have one way to briefly distract her from the shadows and weight and fear that trailed her, so he quickly finished getting ready and headed to her room once again. </p>
<p>“How are you, my lady?” he asked, still kneeling and holding her hand after his now routine greeting. She was, both to his delight and chagrin, again wearing the oversized shirt while sitting on the edge of her bed. He stared determinedly at her face while kneeling much too close to her over-exposed bottom half. </p>
<p>She gave him a brief smile before squeezing his hand. “Tired,” she admitted. </p>
<p>He wasn’t surprised. From what he’d gleaned at their meeting in the war room, she’d spent most of the day with Josephine, which tended to mean politics and a terrible headache. “How can I help?” </p>
<p>Despite her bed already being over-large with plenty of space on either side, she still scooted over as if to make room for him and patted the spot she had just vacated. “Would you sit with me?” </p>
<p>He gave her hand and extra squeeze and sat down next to her, leaving some space between them and waited a moment, expecting her so say something more, but instead he found himself surprised when she moved closer, eliminating the space between them and leaning into him just a little. </p>
<p>“Is this okay?” Even in the low glow of her fireplace he could make out the flush of her cheeks and he couldn’t help huffing a small laugh. There was little he could want more than feeling her pressed against his side.  </p>
<p>In answer, he wrapped his arm around her holding her there and she sighed happily and relaxed into his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Would you talk about something?” she asked after a few quiet moments of just enjoying his presence, his warmth. </p>
<p>She felt more than she heard him laugh as he gave a gentle squeeze to her side. </p>
<p>“About anything in particular?” </p>
<p>She started to shake her head but paused, biting her lip. She was both gratified and embarrassed that he waited for her to gather her courage. “I… would like to know more about you.” She managed, but then sat up straighter, leaning away from him and quickly added, “But if you don’t want to talk about yourself, I understand! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Then, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, she quietly continued. “Anything will do, of course. The distraction will help with my, uh, <em>discomfort </em>. And I like your voice. I missed it when I read your letters. So I’d like to listen to it now, if you don’t mind.” </p>
<p>Cullen felt his face heat and wore a helpless smile. “Alright.” She relaxed at his agreement and he coaxed her back against his shoulder, letting his own head lean atop hers, warming at the satisfied sigh she gave. They sat quietly for another moment as he tried to think of what he could say that wouldn’t reveal himself. </p>
<p>“Have you ever seen Ferelden in the summer, my lady?” </p>
<p>“Well, I arrived at the tail end of Solace for the Conclave, but I can’t say I saw much of Ferelden. Somehow it was still cold.” </p>
<p>Cullen chuckled. “Its not always cold here, I promise. I grew up in a village just between the Frostbacks and Lake Calenhad. Normally in the summer, it gets pretty hot. We would swim in the river to cool off.” </p>
<p>She hummed, thinking about swimming. She hadn’t in so long, that now she suddenly hoped summer would come again soon. </p>
<p>“We also usually get large storms in the summer. I remember often sitting by the window and watching them roll in. Lightening would arc across the sky and light it so brilliantly. I remember thinking it was magic.” </p>
<p>They both chuckled at that and she snuggled closer to him, reaching around for his free hand to take into hers and hold it while she rested her hand on top of both of their thighs. </p>
<p>He smiled against her hair as he continued. “Most days there was a small market outside the Chantry where local farmers would sell or trade. But on Summerday, the market always grew. People would be selling flower crowns woven with ribbons that they would try to sell to all the girls and wooden toys swords or figures to the boys. Or they would try to sell cakes or cloth or pies to the adults.” </p>
<p>She started to swipe her thumb back and forth over the back of his hand, distracting him a little. He glanced down at her snuggled against him and imagined her at Summerday, wearing a simple white dress with flowers in her hair. He imagined her smiling at him over a piece of sweet bread and dancing with her friends.  </p>
<p>“Did you ever dance with anyone?” she asked breaking him from his reverie and he gave a short laugh. </p>
<p>“Once. A girl had asked and my sister answered before I could—I don’t know if she wanted to see me embarrass myself or if she just wanted me to be busy elsewhere so she could go have fun on her own. Unfortunately I think that I ended up hurting the girl’s feet more than my rejection would have hurt her pride.” </p>
<p>Catherine snickered, knowing that she would have done the same to her brothers. “I’m sure the girl was still glad to dance with you, aching feet and all.” </p>
<p>Cullen huffed a laugh and shook his head, doubting it. “Did you ever dance with anyone?” </p>
<p>He watched Catherine’s smile falter and he wanted to apologize, to snatch his question out of the air and take it back, but she was already answering before he could apologize. </p>
<p>“When I was young, I danced with my nanny or my dog. Once, I even tried to dance with my horse, Gaharel, by leading him around with a carrot. He ended up eating my flower crown.” Cullen couldn’t help a chuckle. Briefly, he wondered how many horses were named because of her. He was sure that every mount that had passed through Skyhold’s gates had a name by this point. “Once I went to the circle, there were small celebrations, but—Well, no. I didn’t dance with anyone.” </p>
<p>He squeezed her hand and hugged her closer to him. </p>
<p>“Come this Summerday, I’m sure there will be quite the line of people wanting to dance with you.” </p>
<p>She gave an undignified snort of laughter that made him smile. “You sound like Dorian.” </p>
<p>“Do I?” </p>
<p>“He’s convinced there’s a pile of letters from potential suitors that my spymaster has tucked away somewhere.” She was grinning again, rolling her eyes behind her blindfold at the thought. </p>
<p>Cullen, though, didn’t laugh. He thought about those rumors of her and Bull, ones that still circulated the keep occasionally, and wondered if they had protected her or left her isolated. He wondered if the idea had prevented others from considering approaching her, like it had him for a time.  </p>
<p>It took her a moment before she realized he’d been quiet for too long. She pulled away a little, wanting to look at him, wanting to be able to read his expression, but settled for turning her head towards him. </p>
<p>“Is something wrong?” </p>
<p>He just stared at her, drinking her in like a man parched. Beautiful was too weak a word for her, but he couldn’t find another as her brow furrowed with concern.  </p>
<p>He released his hand from hers to touch her cheek, to caress the scar just beneath the bottom of the blindfold, but paused just before his skin could touch hers. But where others hesitated, she acted. </p>
<p>She leaned her head towards the warmth she could feel radiating from his hand and covered it with her own, discouraging him from pulling away. She heard him take a sharp breath and just pressed closer to him. </p>
<p>He could feel himself tearing into his own chest but knew what needed said. </p>
<p>“If there ever is anyone that you wish to… pursue, I won’t stand in the way of that, my lady. I’m here to listen and do whatever you need, but if there is another you would have fill that role, I don’t want to be in the way. I only wish for your happiness.” </p>
<p>“Another?” she asked just before it clicked. The thought that she’d been trying hard to keep sequestered into the back of her mind pounced as she laughed awkwardly and released his hand and scooted away a little, giving herself space.  </p>
<p><em> He  </em> <em> doesn’t want </em>you<em>. He is just doing this </em><em>for the Inquisitor. </em> <em>  It'</em><em>s just obligation </em>. </p>
<p>“No, I,” she cleared her throat and laughed again. “There’s no one who—My commander only just started to be friendly with me. I’d been convinced he was just too polite to hate me.” The corner of her mouth turned up for just a moment, genuine amusement of the man’s politeness and breaking through briefly. “If he could barely even like me, then—” she dropped her head, fidgeting with her shirt again. “Having friends here was more than I expected.” Then, more quietly, anxiously, “Having you here was more than I expected.” </p>
<p>After a moment of silence sitting heavily around them, she turned away, embarrassed that she’d exposed her feelings, embarrassed that she’d fallen too far into the fantasy to know the reality. </p>
<p>For his part, Cullen sat, mortified, knowing that she’d thought he hated her. </p>
<p>But when she turned away, he felt his chest squeeze and his hand was on her cheek, turning her back towards him before he could even think about it. He ran his thumb over her scar briefly as he tried to gather the right words. </p>
<p>“There are more people who care for you than you realize. And anyone who doesn’t love you is a fool.” </p>
<p>Slowly, he felt her cheek warm under his palm and watched as pink made its way to the tip of her ears. But she leaned into his hand and let herself move close again and he wrapped his arm back around her, guiding her back to lean against his shoulder again. </p>
<p>After another moment, she sighed and relaxed into him, trying to suppress that cynical voice in her mind again. She didn’t believe him, but she at least wanted to believe that he thought so. </p>
<p>“Do you think Lake Calenhad looks like a bunny?” </p>
<p>Cullen snorted and pressed his forehead to her crown, smiling into her hair. He’d been so distracted at the war table that day and she’d smiled so bright at his comment. He never thought she’d remember it beyond the moment, though. “If you squint, sure.”  </p>
<p>She chuckled and despite all the talk of Ferelden, he felt more at home in that moment than he had in years. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Guess who's having another Bad Day? </p>
<p>Anyway, this is basically the second scene that made me decide to start to sit and write this story. Cullen is basically his own competition. And Catherine is oblivious to others' feelings for her.</p>
<p>Also, for anyone who may think the obliviousness is unrealistic:<br/>One time a guy approached me in the grocery store and was asking what I was planning to cook. I was like, sure, not big on talking to randos, but maybe he needs dinner ideas, so went ahead and discussed. He then went on to tell me that he was getting ready for a barbecue that afternoon for his birthday and would like for me to come. My response was, "Oh, I'm not much for barbecue, but have a nice birthday."</p>
<p>It wasn't until I was driving home that I realized he was hitting on me and it wasn't just a polite invitation.</p>
<p>This has happened to me on more than one occasion. </p>
<p>TL;DR, Compared to me, Catherine is the Sherlock Holmes of feelings</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen gets a letter from his sister.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Cullen, </em> </p><p><em> I am glad to hear from you. I really am. But the first time I get a letter from you in weeks and you’re asking me for advice for what helps a woman during her bleeding? Maker, you could have at least provided some context for that question. </em> </p><p><em> If you somehow have been hiding that  </em> <em> you’ve had a child for  </em> <em> the last several years, I swear you had better bring  </em> <em> them </em> <em>  here to meet  </em> <em> their </em> <em>  family or I will be seeing  </em> <em> Skyhold </em> <em>  very soon.  </em> </p><p><em> Now that I’ve gotten that out: </em> </p><p><em> Drink more water. Herbal tea like chamomile with a little  </em> <em> elfroot </em> <em>  at least a couple times a day. Hot baths or heated water skin on the abdomen or lower back. Back massage. </em> </p><p><em> Also, don’t listen to any old wives’ tales. Exercise can help and whoever-this-is can still wash their hair.  </em> </p><p><em> With some  </em> <em> context </em> <em> , I may have more advice.  </em> </p><p><em> Love, </em> </p><p><em> Mia </em> </p><p>Cullen covered his face, groaning. He should have asked Leliana. Or Josephine. Sera, even, would have been better. Maybe. Probably not, but, <em> Maker </em>, he really should have slept before sending that letter. </p><p>He sighed, trying to focus on the original purpose. At least it meant that he would have a way to help Catherine, now, and would be able to prepare some better ways to help in the future. That, at least, would be worth the teasing he was certain to receive from his sister for the rest of his life. </p><p>For the last few days, Cullen had just tried to help by keeping her distracted at night, which he could tell hadn’t worked terribly well, but he’d done what he could. In spite of the future prying he would have to endure, he was glad to finally have some more substantial ways of helping. </p><p>Quickly, he set about getting ready and preparing what he could for her on short notice. There were only a few hours left until their usual meeting time and he wanted to do as much as he could for her. </p><p>oOo </p><p>Catherine fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, still wearing the oversized shirt as she’d only just managed to get measured by bothDorian and Josephine’s tailors that morning, so she still didn’t have much else to wear. She’d chanced a glance at herself in the mirror before she’d slipped on the blindfold, and, Maker, she may as well have been wearing a pillow case.  </p><p>Actually, a pillowcase would probably fit better. <em> This  </em>made it look like she was just a large sack of potatoes that had somehow grown limbs. She really hoped that she would be able to have something else to wear soon. She almost didn’t care if there was a corset—no matter how much she had always despised the contraptions—as long as it was at least presentable. </p><p>She reassured herself that at least her visitor didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t commented on it since that first night that she’d worn it, but at the time he had seemed pleased, somehow. Of course, that could have just been him reassuring her, but at the very least he wasn’t repulsed, which she was grateful for. And he had continued to visit, which made her all the more relieved. </p><p>When a knock sounded at the door, she couldn’t help a smile, glad that he had still decided to come. </p><p>“Come in.” </p><p>Familiar footfalls mounted the stairs to her right as she sat on the edge of the bed, and she they came to a stop in front of her, she gave him a nervous smile. Then there was a quiet shifting in front of her. The wait before she could finally hear his voice always left her with butterflies in her stomach. She wondered what he thought, when he would see her sitting there, waiting. Was he as relieved as her? Was he as anxious? Did he smile? </p><p>“May I have your hand, my lady?” </p><p>She reached her hand out from where it had paused with its fidgeting once the knock had sounded and couldn’t help a small sigh when she felt his hand on hers. How was he always so warm?  Sometimes she wondered if maybe he was a mage, too, because of the warmth and how he never seemed afraid of her magic or stories of the Circle. But then again, she never knew a mage with callouses like his. Of course, she also wasn’t very familiar with the hands of other mages. </p><p>“How are you feeling? Do you still feel any pain from your bleeding?” </p><p>Catherine couldn’t help a blush, so unused to being so thoroughly taken care of, but gave a half-shrug. “A little, but it’s not as bad today.” She felt him squeeze her hand briefly before letting it go, and she immediately missed his warmth. </p><p>“I brought some things that might help, if you like, thanks to some, um, recommendations. Either tonight or for next time.” </p><p>The warmth returned abruptly, even without his hand touching hers. Asking after her was one thing, but actually going out of his way to help? Asking for recommendations?  That was something else entirely. And yet, it’s what he’d been doing from the start, even if it continued to surprise her. Or maybe the fact that it continued at all was the biggest surprise of all. </p><p>“You brought something?” </p><p>“Water skin to heat and soothe your muscles, if you like. And tea to mix with a little elfroot. I was recommended chamomile, but I didn’t know if you would prefer something else, so I brought a few. I have—” </p><p>Her visitor’s explanation cut off the moment her hand touched his jaw gently. She could feel the stubble under the pads of her fingers, and his warmth, and smiled at him, feeling a little overwhelmed. </p><p>“Thank you.” She ran her thumb over his cheek once and she felt his jaw muscle loosen under her hand before his hand covered it and he moved a little closer to her. </p><p>“Is there anything I can do?” </p><p>“Tea would be nice. And sit with me?” It was a moment before she felt him move under her hand, but eventually he nodded and moved away. “I have a tea set in my closet," she gestured to the door by her dresser. She heard him shuffling and the door open and the sound of porcelain tapping. “I can make the water and heat it.” Catherine raised her hand and fluttered her fingers a little in offer, and she heard him chuff a small laugh. </p><p>“Please do.” A moment later, she felt the teapot being pressed into her hands, and she gladly took it and called on the fade, summoning some snow into the vessel and then slowly heating it, making sure to take enough time to keep the porcelain from cracking—she'd made that mistake while at the Circle and had always had felt bad for chipping the First Enchanter’s teapot. </p><p>Soon enough, the water had warmed and she offered it back to him. Moments later, the gentle smell of chamomile was wafting through the room and she smiled when a saucer and cup were pressed into her hands, and smiled more when she heard the quiet rattling next to her that made her think he was having some too as the bed next to her dipped. </p><p>“Thank you.” She leaned towards him, pressing her shoulder against his and hoped he knew that the thanks was for more than just the tea and hoped fervently that she would be able to find a way to help him just as much. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I giggled far too much while writing the letter from Mia. </p><p>Have a good week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sutherland and crew need a rescue.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Maker, please, please let us be in time </em>, Catherine pleaded silently as she forced her dracolisk to ride harder. Dennet had told her the Desert Lightning Dracolisk was the fastest of the mounts at Skyhold, and she just prayed it would be fast enough. Thanks to her steed being from the desert, he also was used to going hours upon hours on end without water, so she was able to push him through the night without stopping. She hadn’t come up with a name for him yet, but that could come later, once Sutherland and his crew were safe. </p><p>Catherine didn’t know what happened. All she knew was that Sutherland’s squire, a younf dwarf named Rat, had a seen them taken by someone. Rat had been able to give her a general area, and Catherine hoped that by the time she reached the Storm Coast, Leliana’s scouts, Cullen’s soldiers and the Blades of Hessarian would be able to give her a narrowed area. </p><p>In any case, she raced ahead, not paying mind to the fact that she knew her companions were trailing behind. Maybe if whoever had taken the crew thought she was alone, they would underestimate her. Or maybe she would be able to negotiate for their release. Her mind spun as her steed dashed ahead, running through snow and mud with the same ease he would have through the deserts he had come from.  </p><p><em> Just let me be in time</em>. </p><p>“Inquisitor! You'll want to see this,” she heard an agent call out as she rode into the camp. With prayers still running through her mind, she opened the letter. “It came in just an hour ago, ser.” </p><p><em> Inquisitor, </em> </p><p><em> The last trail of Sutherland and company found and mapped. </em> </p><p><em> Keep yourself safe, too. </em> </p><p><em> Cullen </em> </p><p>Catherine could have cried with relief, but she knew that finding their trail was just the first step. She still had to find them and deal with whatever had taken them. Still, she wasted no time as she looked over the map location, thinking it looked just southwest of the main river that cut through the area. She was familiar enough with it that she left the letter behind with instructions for the rest of her companions, who were likely a few hours behind given how hard she’d pushed her mount, to let the Blades know and have them join if she wasn’t back with the crew by the time they arrived. </p><p>Then she got back on her mount and rushed off again. These were her people. These were people who had joined because of <em>her</em>, who were out here because of <em>her</em>. She knew she couldn’t keep everyone safe. That lesson had been pounded into her again and again from the Circle, its fall, the year after, the Conclave, and Haven. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do her damnedest. </p><p>When she heard shouting, she hopped off her mount and started running. When she saw the darkspawn, she threw lightening before she even took a second look at who they were up against. When she heard Sutherland’s shout, she felt like she’d been able to take her first real breath since Rat had anxiously told her about the crew. </p><p>“It’s the Inquisitor! I told you! I told you!” Catherine threw a static cage up trapping the darkspawn in the electricity, away from the other three. “She’s a true-as-anything hero!” </p><p>“Sutherland, less talking! Careful with the darkspawn blood getting in your mouth. Voth, barrier on your friends. Shayd, Sutherland and I’ll keep their attention. Stay behind them and don’t let them touch you.” </p><p>Sutherland immediately shut his trap, but the rogue on the other side of the darkspawn was too shocked to follow Catherine’s instructions for a moment. </p><p>“She<em>  knows my name </em>?” </p><p>Then Shayd seemed to shake herself and pulled her daggers back up, pouncing into the back of the archer just as it tried to knock another arrow in Catherine’s direction. The moment Shayd pulled her daggers back out, Catherine cast chain lightning, making the three darkspawn seize up just as the magical cage dropped. Then Sutherland stepped in and lobbed off the rigid arms of the injured archer and Shayd jumped onto the back of the next beast. </p><p>Voth lobbed a ball of fire at the remaining creature, sending it running a little further away while Catherine rushed up to the one Shayd was twisting her daggers into. Catherine stabbed it through with her staff blade, in one side and out the other, and the two of them pulled their blades out in tandem, leaving it a bloody, mangled mess on the ground as the head of Sutherland’s target fell. </p><p>Finally, Catherine cast a lightning bolt down on the last darkspawn, turning it to ash before it could even fall to hit the ground. </p><p>For a brief moment, there was just the rolling thunder in the distance and the sound of rain cascading down around all of them. Then Sutherland gave out a gleeful shout, no longer having to worry about darkspawn blood splashing into his mouth. </p><p>“We won! Hurrah!” </p><p>“Hurrah? You beautiful ass!” Shayd laughed. </p><p>Catherine let out a breath, so, so glad she seemed to have made it in time. Then she noticed Sutherland grinning at her again. </p><p>“I knew you’d come. Rat’s a good runner.” </p><p>“Come on. Let’s get back to the camp. You can tell me what happened once we’re away from any lingering darkspawn.” She glanced back at the remains, wondering where they’d managed to trickle out from after she’d already closed the known tunnels. She hoped it was just a few that had already made it to the surface from before and not some new tunnels that they’d dug out. </p><p>She walked with them back to the Inquisition base camp, leading her mount to walk alongside them. Shayd and Sutherland flirted while Voth quietly walked at her side, and Catherine finally allowed herself to smile a little. She was exhausted and soaked through to the bone, but they were alive. </p><p>She hadn’t expected her last spell to do so much damage, especially since she didn’t put any more mana behind it than normal, but she supposed that the Storm Coast lent itself well to storm magic. Or maybe she just got a lucky hit. In any case, she wasn’t complaining.  </p><p>Once they were back at camp, though, she let her smile fall as she told the crew to all to get in a tent and eat something. She was going to follow, but held back when she saw Orchid, Anaan and The Horse—who Varric wanted to name The Shitter, but Catherine refused even if the Free Marches Ranger made her have to get a new pair of boots—cresting over the hill to camp. She gave them a little smile and wave. At first, they all looked relieved, then Dorian’s expression turned into a glower as he dismounted first.  </p><p>“You just run off ahead like that and then decide to sit and wait? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you didn’t go get killed without me, but honestly, was that really necessary?” </p><p>She managed an apologetic smile as she gestured at the gore that still lingered on her staff and armor somewhat despite the rain. “We managed. They were up against darkspawn. But Sutherland and his crew made it back with me. They’re in the tent.” Dorian gaped at her for a moment before taking her by the shoulders. </p><p>“By the Maker, Catherine! You ran off on your own, through the night, in the middle of nowhere to rescue them without <em>any  </em> backup! You rushed ahead! Who cares if there was a trap or, evidently, darkspawn ? No, no, you’re the Inquisitor. You’re <em>invincible</em>, of course!” He released her and threw his arms up, grumbling, and she stared at him, trying to find what to say. She didn’t regret it, wouldn’t have even if it was a trap, but she also hadn’t wanted to worry him. </p><p>“Hey, Boss?” With a sigh, Catherine turned towards Bull, but he was just grinning down at her. “Good job.” </p><p>She managed a short, surprised laugh and gave him a small smile in return, while Dorian spun around passing his glare between the two of them before the look melted with a resigned sigh.  </p><p>“<em> Festis </em><em>bei </em><em>umo </em><em>canavarum </em>. Yes, well done, you’re alive, they’re alive, and we’re all soaking wet. Lovely.” </p><p>Bull then pulled Dorian away to a tent to dry off, muttering the whole way. Varric just gave her a shrug and a grin before he went to dry out too, leaving Catherine with a moment to turn back towards the people she’d come to rescue. </p><p>She heard them talking inside their tent, but they all turned when she entered with Sutherland grinning up at her around a mouth full of stew.  </p><p>“Once you’re finished, take off your armor. You’ll need to clean off the darkspawn blood and I want to make sure none of you are injured.” </p><p>“Of course, Inquisitior,” he responded seriously once he managed to swallow. She gave him a nod and noticed Voth, already pulling his armor off. Apparently already done eating, or, looking at the lack of bowl near him, she guessed he hadn’t started yet. That made her frown, but she would address that after she made sure he was hale and whole. </p><p>She scooted towards him and pulled her gifted balm out of a pouch on her belt and looked him over. Overall, Voth seemed to have come out of their capture and fight without any major injuries. He had a few bruises which she slathered the balm on and a strained shoulder which she helped heal, but once she was finished, she filled a bowl with food and shoved it into his hands with a glare. Apparently, it got the point across and he started eating without complaint. </p><p>Next, she started on Shayd whose back had a long, shallow gash and a few other small injuries that Catherine carefully inspected and tended to. Luckily, they didn’t look infected with the Blight or anything else, but she told the rogue to make sure to keep an eye on it and have the healer take another look once they returned to Skyhold. </p><p>Finally, she moved on to Sutherland who tried valiantly to say he was fine, but when Shayd threatened to punch him, he finally settled and let Catherine take a look. Quickly, she realized he actually had a couple of broken ribs, which earned him a glare from both women as he gave them a sheepish smile. </p><p>Catherine used up the last of her balm on him, slathering it all over his side and weaving in a little magic to help speed up the healing, but told him that once he got back to Skyhold, he was on bed rest for a month. He grimaced but nodded, unable to argue when faced with her glare. </p><p>Finally, she moved back towards the tent entrance, but paused before leaving. </p><p>“Never doubt that you lot matter. You matter to your families, blood or found. You matter to each other. You matter to the Inquisition. You matter to me. Treat yourselves accordingly.” </p><p>She heard a sniffle and looked towards Sutherland again who was obviously trying not to cry, but they all nodded. Finally, Catherine smiled at them and left, finding Bull and Varric standing just a few feet away, trying to hide their grins. She raised an eyebrow at them, but they both just smiled more pulling her to the fire to grab some food and Bull patted her on the back. </p><p>Once Catherine got a few hours of sleep, they all geared up to head back to Skyhold, but just before they left, one of Catherine’s scouts called out for her. </p><p>“Ser, you may want to see this.” </p><p>Frowning, she took the note from the scout, and her frown only deepened as she read it. </p><p><em> Inquisitor, </em> </p><p><em> Hawke and Stroud confirmed  </em> <em> Warden-Commander </em><em>Clarel </em><em>is at Adamant. Stroud  </em> <em> remains near Adamant </em> <em>  keeping watch. Hawke has returned to  </em> <em> Skyhold</em><em>.  </em> </p><p><em> I know your rescue is important, but we need to move soon if we are to stop the army before they create it. </em> </p><p><em> We’ll have more details for you on your return. Come back safe. </em> </p><p><em> Cullen </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Adamant is coming! The Adamant chapters will hit about the 1/5th mark of this story. </p><p>In other news, I've decided that from now through Nov 3, if anyone has a recommendation for a local democratic campaign that I should donate to, tell me their name and I'll look into them.</p><p>I'm a queer woman with disabilities and PTSD, and times have been scary even before 2016 and the special terror of this year. </p><p>I've been volunteering on a state senate campaign near me and I have yard signs for other candidates. Basically, I'm trying to make sure that I'm doing everything I can to protect myself and others this year. And while this story has been my escape, if I can use it at the same time to do some good in the world, and encourage others to do so too, then that's what I am going to do.</p><p>So, please send me campaigns you care about and I'll list out what I have donated to in the notes of my chapter the next week. </p><p>Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>On the eve of marching on Adamant, Catherine is afraid.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine clung to herself, blindfolded and trembling, as she tried to keep herself calm. How long had it been since she put the silk on? It was already late when she returned to Skyhold, Sutherland and crew in tow, and her war table meeting had gone late as they reviewed their plans and sent out the orders to start the march on Adamant at dawn. Maybe her visitor had already gone to bed. Maybe he didn’t know she’d returned.  </p><p>She thought about going to see if Dorian was still up, or maybe chatting with Cole for a while to distract herself. </p><p>But, Maker, she needed <em>him </em>tonight.  </p><p>She needed his honey-mead voice and warm hands and—A sudden knock at her door left her startled and she rushed to call her visitor in. </p><p>When Cullen mounted the stairs, he saw her worried brow and fidgeting hands and felt his own chest sinking. He’d sent out his orders as quickly as he could manage, but knowing that she had been stewing and worrying alone still left him tinged with regret for not somehow coming sooner. </p><p>“What can I do?” he asked after pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as always. For the first time he could recall, her cheeks were pale rather than tinged with a blush after his greeting and he hoped he would be able to help. </p><p>Catherine wanted to ask if he would be there, if he knew where she would be headed come dawn, if he was scared too. She wanted to know if he would be safe. </p><p>“Hold me?” she asked instead. He sat on the sofa next to her and wrapped his arms around her, but she turned and swung her legs over his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was too worried about everything else to bother with a worry about what he might think of her clinging to him. She just needed him close, needed to draw what strength she could from him, knowing she wouldn’t have a chance to come sunrise. </p><p>Cullen was surprised, but gladly held her closer. Usually she was larger than life, confidence and command making her seem like she could loom over even The Iron Bull, but the way she curled in on herself now made him realize how small she was. Just one woman, as breakable as any other, standing between all of them and destruction. </p><p>He wrapped his arms around her tighter, making himself the shield between her and the rest of the world. </p><p><em> They will not take you, </em> he thought, praying with all he had. </p><p>Catherine pressed her cheek to his vest and just concentrated on its pleasant softness in contrast to the firmness of the arms that surrounded her. She counted his breaths and tried to match hers to them, and slowly the trembling that had taken her arms receded.  </p><p>“Serah?” </p><p>“Hm?” </p><p>“Will you tell me something about yourself? A story or hobby or... anything, really.” </p><p>Cullen hummed and rested his chin on top of her head as he tried to think of something to tell her. She snuggled in closer and felt her breath across his chest and couldn’t help smiling as she finally started to relax against him. He would give almost anything to feel her like this every night. </p><p>“Do you know anything of swordplay, my lady?” </p><p>She huffed a soft laugh and the sound of it warmed him, glad that she was less tense than when he found her. “Only that I try to keep a distance between myself and any pointed at me. But if you mean handling one myself, only before the circle when I tried to sneak away with my father’s but only managed to make a ruckus when I discovered how heavy it was. After that I stuck with sticks and my imagination.” Cullen chuckled, imagining a smaller version of her running around the woods with a stick, challenging every creature to a duel.  “It would probably be good to learn, though, now that I find myself facing swords more than is probably good for my health.” </p><p>Cullen hummed, pushing the thought of training her to the side for the moment. Once they returned, he would offer, and while he regretted not thinking of it sooner, not thinking of it before they were about to march on an ancient fortress filled with experienced swordsmen, pulling her into training now would likely do more harm than good. </p><p>Still, she’d asked for him to talk. </p><p>“When I was first learning to parry, I nearly lost my ear.” </p><p>Catherine snorted and nudged him, silently asking him to keep talking, and he obliged, telling her about his disastrous misunderstanding of when to use the flat of the blade and when to use the edge that left his sword in the dirt and his partner’s where his head would have been had he not lost his balance and fallen. After that, he became a quick learner. </p><p>But the time he finished, Catherine’s breathing was steady against his chest, but she was still humming along with the story. </p><p>“You should sleep, my lady.” </p><p>He felt her nod against him, but she made no move to get up and he had no desire to push her away, even if it meant waking to his legs on pins and needles and an uncomfortable knot in his neck. </p><p>“I’m scared.” </p><p>It was just a whisper, but left his chest tight. He held her tighter and pressed his cheek to her crown. </p><p>“You won’t be marching or fighting alone. You don’t have to do it on your own.” He knew it was precious little comfort. She tightened her arms around his neck. </p><p>“You’ll be there too?” Her voice was quiet and small, barely audible to her own ears despite them echoing loudly in her head. </p><p>He nodded against her and she took a slow, shaky breath. Despite the fear of knowing he would be marching into danger with her, she felt herself settle some, reassured that she at least wasn’t going to have to <em>wonder </em>. </p><p>“Come back to me after. Please.” She wanted to beg, to plead with him to promise his safety despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good. None of them would be safe at Adamant. </p><p>“I will,” he promised anyway. “I’ll be here at midnight. So you have to make it back to me too.” </p><p>She took a sharp breath, squeezing her eyes tight against the prickling she felt. She buried her face in his neck and tried to match her breaths to his again, counting her breaths until she came to a sudden realization. </p><p>“Elderflower.” </p><p>“Hm?” he tilted his head, trying to look down at her, but she moved closer her breath caressing his neck and making his hair stand on end in the most pleasant way. </p><p>“Your scent. Its elderflower, like the balm you gave me.” </p><p>Heat filled Cullen’s face even as he nodded. “I hoped it would remind you of something good, even with an injury,” he admitted and she smiled, pressing in closer. </p><p>“Thank you.” She felt overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness and hoped with all she had that this wouldn’t be the last night she would spend in his arms. </p><p><em> Make it back to me</em>, she silently begged. She swore to herself that she would find a way to repay him for his kindness, if only he would give her the opportunity by returning. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been A Week.</p><p>I hope y'all have had a better one than me. Here's hoping next week is an improvement.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen and Catherine both hate Adamant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Inquisitor?”</p><p>“Hm?” Catherine looked up from where she had been staring sightlessly at the map in front of her to find Leliana giving her a concerned look. She only then noticed that Josephine and Cullen had already left for their own tents.</p><p>“Are you alright?" She watched Leliana’s eyes glance down at her marked hand where she was clutching it tightly to her chest, and Catherine immediately dropped it, shaking her head as if doing so would rid her of the plague of her thoughts.</p><p>“Yes, I’m fine. I should—Actually,” Catherine paused, suddenly remembering the moment before— “Justinia asked me to pass on a message to you.”</p><p>Confusion creased her spymaster’s brow. “A message?”</p><p>“She said, ‘I’m sorry, I failed you too.’”</p><p>“Oh,” the redhead breathed and Catherine watched as she hunched over, wondering if she should have passed the message on at all. But before she could voice her concern, Leliana righted herself again and gestured towards the tent entrance.</p><p>“Come, we should both rest. It’s a long march back to Skyhold.”</p><p>Reluctantly, Catherine nodded and followed her out before heading to her own tent, giving Cullen a nod as she passed by him. Later, she would remember that his tent was in the other direction and wonder if he’d gotten lost, but in the moment she was too tired to think.</p><p>Then when she opened the flap to her tent, she saw the red silk laying there waiting on her bedroll. She managed to step in and let the entrance fall closed behind her again before her legs buckled under her and she collapsed into a heap, curling in on herself. Her hands were shaking so much that she could barely knot the silk and didn’t bother with removing her armor or moving from the spot where she lay. She just covered her mouth to muffle her cries as she waited.</p><p>“My lady?”</p><p>She didn’t know how long it was before she heard the familiar whisper, but she hadn’t moved from her spot on the ground and her shoulders were still quivering with the occasional suppressed sob.</p><p>“Come in,” she managed, voice thick as she tried to sit up, tried to look presentable, but the sharp breath behind her told her she’d failed. Then she felt him helping her up.</p><p>“Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”</p><p>Instead of answering, she threw her arms around him and pulled him close, hugging him as tightly as she could.</p><p>“Tell me you’re real. Tell me this is real.”</p><p>Cullen stiffened for just a moment with surprise but then he hugged her back just as tightly. “I’m real,” he promised as he maneuvered himself to sit and then pulled her into his lap. He tangled one hand in her hair and kept his other wrapped around her waist, holding her as close as he could.</p><p>When that dragon had appeared, Cullen felt his heart in his throat. After all, she’d already faced it once and managed to survive. Managing a second time seemed like he was asking the Maker for too much, but that didn’t stop him from praying. Then the Wardens stood down and he’d raced up the battlements with some of his forces, hoping to help, to stand at her side against it where he hadn’t at Haven. But by the time he arrived, she was nowhere to be seen and the blighted creature, though injured, was flying off into the distance.</p><p>He didn’t have time or space to mourn, though, no matter how much he wanted to tear the fortress down brick by brick. Instead, he led his men back towards the largest rift where demons were still spewing out. He didn’t let himself think about what it meant that there was still a rift without her mark. He didn’t let himself think about what it meant for that future she’d seen in Redcliffe. He didn’t let himself think about how it felt like his guts had been torn from his body at the thought of never seeing her again.</p><p>So when he heard shouting, he’d readied himself for another pride demon or some other monster. Instead, he saw a much more familiar set of horns. He finished off the shade he’d been fighting and then ran towards them, seeing for himself the Iron Bull. Unwilling to believe his eyes, he still searched, seeing a dwarf with a crossbow and the only familiar Warden among the many present, but he didn’t see that brunette braid or blood red armor.</p><p>He waited, heart in his throat and turned back towards the rift.</p><p>She stepped out, Hawke beside her, and snapped it shut behind her. He’d watched as she glared down a Warden and then exchanged a few words with Hawke.</p><p>Having her in his arms now was nothing short of a miracle, he was sure, even as her body shook with sobs.</p><p>With a stony expression, she’d told them what had happened over their makeshift war table, how she’d been in the Fade. <em>Again</em>.</p><p>He could tell she’d left some parts out, and now that he felt her crying in his arms, his heart broke, wondering what sort of horrors she’d seen, but he couldn’t help still being so profoundly grateful to have her back at all.</p><p>“You’re safe now, Catherine. You’re back. I’m here,” he promised, murmuring anything he could think of to soothe and reassure her, but suddenly she jerked back, head snapping up like she would look at him, but forgetting her eyes were covered.</p><p>“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”</p><p>Gently, he pulled her back towards him. “I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about anything else tonight. We’re safe,” he soothed, running his hand over her back and she clung to him tightly, still shivering.</p><p>Slowly, though, Catherine managed to get herself to relax. He smelled like steel and sweat instead of elderflower, but she didn’t care. He was solid and real and holding her. She tried to match her breath to his, trying to relax.</p><p>“Do you want help taking off your armor?”</p><p>She’d forgotten she was even still wearing it. Quickly, she pulled back, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable it must have felt to have her clinging to him with metal bits digging in everywhere. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—”</p><p>“No, it’s alright. I just thought you might be uncomfortable. Will you let me help?”</p><p>Still shy but too tired to be bothered herself, she nodded and offered her hand so he could start unstrapping her gauntlets first. Once she was free of all her armor, she felt him take her hand and gently pull her towards him. She gladly followed and curled herself against him again.</p><p>“Will you stay?” she asked, willing herself not to beg. More than anything at that moment, she just wanted to hold him through to morning.</p><p>Cullen stayed quiet for a long moment, but then sighed against her hair. His sense of self-preservation told him to go before he couldn’t bring himself to, but he needed to hold her for as long as he could just as much as she seemed to want to stay with him.</p><p>“Do you want to lay down? I’ll stay until you’re asleep, at least.” He settled on a compromise.</p><p>Catherine wanted to wake up to him there, too, but she didn’t let herself push the boundary he’d set, afraid she was already pushing too far as it was. She nodded and disentangled herself from him enough to lay down on her side facing him, hoping that he would at least hold her hand as she tried to fall asleep. She heard him moving, and then was surprised when she felt an arm slide beneath her head and a hand rest on her waist.</p><p>“Is this alright?”</p><p>He was close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek and even as she flushed, she scooted herself just a little closer, tangling her hand in his shirt. “Thank you.”</p><p>They didn’t say anything else even as his thumb made a repetitive swipe over her side and she wondered what he was thinking, but eventually she fell into the Fade again, though more willingly this time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So that's Adamant. Winter Palace is somewhere around chapter 50. </p><p>Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine talks to Bull and Varric in the aftermath of Adamant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine stood on the battlements of Skyhold staring out at the tents of all the people who had returned from Adamant. She tried to count them, tried to compare against the last time she’d counted, but while there were still too many for her to be able to see them all, she knew that there were far fewer than before. Her advisors hadn’t provided her a full list yet, but the longer it took them to compile it, the more names she knew there would be.</p><p><br/>She turned to look at the keep itself, all the people streaming in and out and couldn’t help the icy terror deep in her gut as she wondered who else she might lose. Who else she might sacrifice.</p><p><br/>“Again!” she heard shouted from below, pulling her attention from her dour thoughts. She took a breath. It wouldn’t help anyone to see her cowering after what was supposed to be a victory, so she pulled herself together and turned to investigate, arriving just in time to see Cassandra bash a stick into Bull’s chin.</p><p><br/>She ran over, but Cassandra, undisturbed, just handed the stick off to her. “Perhaps you can take over.” Catherine stared after her, baffled before turning to Bull who was thankfully standing back up.</p><p><br/>“What was that all about? Are you alright?”</p><p><br/>“I’m fine, Boss. It’s a Qunari training exercise to master your fear,” Bull explained as he rolled his shoulders. “That fear demon was... Big.”</p><p><br/>Catherine couldn’t help a flinch, remembering Stroud’s back as he charged it alone.</p><p><br/>“Bring it on.”</p><p><br/>She looked at the staff in her hand with discomfort and then back at Bull who was poised and ready. “You want me to hit you?”</p><p><br/>“Yep.” She looked at the staff again, really not liking the idea of hurting him, but then she heard Bull sigh. “Look, you’re a mage. That stick is bigger than you are. You’re not going to actually hurt me unless you throw some magic crap into it.”</p><p><br/>She frowned but nodded. “If I do hurt you, you tell me immediately and we stop.”</p><p><br/>A smirk spread across Bull’s face. “I never pegged you as a dom, Boss.”</p><p><br/>For a moment, Catherine just stared at him, but then she felt her cheeks heat up. She gripped the staff and swung it at him with everything she could muster. “I’m the one doing the pegging right now, thank you.”</p><p><br/>Bull grunted at the swing but then broke out in a laugh even as he nodded for her to swing again.</p><p><br/>“Different kind of pegging than I’m used to, but not bad.”</p><p><br/>Catherine snorted, rolling her eyes at him even as she swung again.</p><p><br/>“You’re such an ass.”</p><p><br/>“Explains why you’re pegging my gut.”</p><p><br/>Catherine lost her grip on the staff as she dissolved into a fit of giggles and Bull couldn’t help cracking up too. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into a side hug and ruffled her hair.</p><p><br/>She blushed and batted his hand away and tried to smooth down the mess he’d made of her braid, but it was a lost cause and he just grinned down at her as she tilted her head.</p><p><br/>“Still need me to hit you?”</p><p><br/>“Nah, I’m good now. Thanks, Boss.” Somehow he was less afraid now even though the training exercise really didn’t go the way it was supposed to. But he was at her side, so really, what was there to be afraid of? “What about you? How are you doing?”</p><p><br/>He watched her smile stiffen and kept the frown from his own expression. He knew a fake smile when he saw it, especially on her face.</p><p><br/>“I’m fine! We made it out, didn’t we? Anyway, if you don’t need me to hit you more, I should go check on the others.” She forced a smile as she regretfully slid away from his hug and left, heading towards the main keep. She knew she was running away, but she didn’t want to worry him if she could help it.</p><p><br/>Of course, Bull was already concerned as he watched her leave, frowning at her retreating back.</p><p><br/>Catherine had planned on heading to the courtyard and checking on her plants before talking with Josephine, but when she saw Varric glaring down at the parchment spread in front of him, she felt obligated to intervene in his losing battle.</p><p><br/>“Paperwork, huh? No one walks away from that fight clean.” She saw the corner of his mouth twitch up as he finished what he was writing.</p><p><br/>“You have no idea the number of times I’ve almost been killed by bills of lading.” He put down his quill and turned towards her, gesturing to an open seat. She gladly took it. “Of course, half of those were Hawke’s fault. Bit of advice if you get into business? Don’t use Hawke as your messenger. She’s as likely to kill the buyer as she is the seller. Or to have one of them try to kill her. Sometimes both.”</p><p><br/>Catherine chuckled, having gathered that much from The Tale of The Champion. Of course, after getting to know Varric, she assumed that at least a quarter of the story was bullshit, but there was always one truth at the heart of it: a large portion of the people Hawke encountered tried to kill her. One more thing she and the Champion seemed to have in common, really.</p><p><br/>“If you want to go to Weishaupt with her, Varric—”</p><p><br/>Varric snorted in response before she could finish. “I’m limiting myself to one world-changing disaster at a time. And hopefully once we’re done here, Hawke and I will meet back in Kirkwall at our—my room in the Hanged man and never have to deal with any crazy magic crap again.”</p><p><br/>“And here I thought we were getting along so well despite me being a mage.”</p><p><br/>“Magic crap, not magic people, Sparky. I’m not like Broody,” he scoffed.</p><p><br/>“I’ve earned a nickname!” Catherine grinned at him. “I’m honored.”</p><p><br/>“Well, after out-sparking the pride demons in the Fade, you’ve earned it.”</p><p><br/>Catherine forced out a laugh even as her mind wandered back towards the fade. Storm magic should have been weak against pride demons. She’d fought one before, after all, when they made their first desperate attempt on the Breach back at Haven. But in the Fade, where logic had led her to believe that the demons would have been at their strongest, they acted more like conductors for her magic. Blackwall had barely even needed to hit them before they returned to the ether.</p><p><br/>“Just don’t tell Hawke. I tried out Chuckles for her for a while, but it fits Solas better than her and she’ll kill me if she knows that you got a nickname before her.”</p><p><br/>“Your secret is safe with me.” Catherine managed to keep her smile in place, but she could still feel the cold slithering of dread in the back of her mind at the thought of their foray into the Fade. When she stood, she no longer had the appetite for the politics that would come with a visit to Josephine as she made her excuses to leave him to his paperwork.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love puns and bad pickup lines. The worse they are, the more I like them. Unfortunately, any bad pickup lines would be too out of character in this story, but I can still sneak in puns. (If you also like terrible pickup lines, my story Dark Dreams with Dorian/Male Adaar might be an amusing read. At the very least, I had a blast writing it.)</p><p>If good things have happened to anyone recently, I'd like to hear about them. Gush to me about your little achievements or any bit of happy news you've got. </p><p>I'll start: my baby nephew (11mos) has started walking.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander, you got a minute?” Bull stood at the door, waiting until the runner delivering the latest reports to Cullen had finished.</p>
<p><br/>“Alright.” Cullen stacked the reports on the side of his desk with the other medium-priority unread reports before giving Bull his full attention.</p>
<p><br/>“Krem’s saying he wants lead some of my Chargers to destroy whatever is left of Adamant,” Bull explained, handing over the formally written request from Krem. Normally he’d deliver it to Catherine, but Bull figured she was thinking about Adamant enough as it was, given her earlier skittishness. He figured he made the right decision when Cullen’s expression was serious rather than dour.</p>
<p><br/>“I’ll send some men with him. It took all of our forces to break Adamant. Your men will need help bringing it to rubble.”</p>
<p><br/>“Good,” Bull said with a satisfied nod. “Be glad to see that place gone. Damn demons. Did Catherine tell you about the little ones in the fade? I mean, there was The Big Guy, but those little ones. Ugh.” He shook his head to try to rid himself of the image of desiccated corpses of everyone he’d ever cared about.</p>
<p><br/>Cullen frowned at him. “Little ones?”</p>
<p><br/>Bull gave a grunt. “Little fear demon shits. Apparently we all saw something different. Hawke just saw spiders. Lucky.”</p>
<p><br/>For a moment, Cullen wondered what he would have seen. At first, he imagined Kinloch Hold, but he’s seen a lot since then. His nightmares had twisted since then. Maybe he would have seen all of them combined. He frowned at the thought.</p>
<p><br/>“At least you were able to keep them all on that side of the veil.”</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah. Now to just blast the place so no more crawl through. I’ll let Krem know.”</p>
<p>Once Bull left, Cullen sat down at his desk and picked up his unread reports, but then a sudden worry hit him. What had Catherine seen?</p>
<p><br/>oOo</p>
<p><br/>Catherine lingered in the rotunda, pretending to study Solas’s murals longer than she actually was. Mainly, she was delaying going up the stairs to talk to Dorian. He hadn’t been happy when she’d not taken him up to the battlements to fight with her and instead left him to try to help cover the ground forces, and she figured he would be even less happy having likely already heard about what happened.</p>
<p><br/>It was clear enough that everyone had thought them dead when Corypheus’s dragon flew off, and Dorian hadn’t been particularly happy with her almost dying last time she saw the blighted creature back at Haven. She didn’t expect him to be any happier this time around.<br/>Still, delaying the inevitable wasn’t going to help, so with a sigh, she mounted the stairs.<br/>Instead of sitting at his usual spot, he was pacing around the shelves, occasionally tossing a book over his shoulder.<br/>“Can I help you find something?”</p>
<p>Dorian just scoffed and turned on her. “Because you’re a mage? Considering the education standards in the South, that’s hardly a recommendation.”</p>
<p><br/>Catherine flinched, sucking in a quick breath, but before she could apologize for interrupting him and back away, he sighed and shook his head.</p>
<p><br/>“I apologize. That was unworthy.” She nodded and he turned back towards the shelves. “Did I see something by Geinitivi here? I could have sworn.”</p>
<p><br/>“Can I help?”</p>
<p><br/>Dorian frowned at her over his shoulder. “You can help by being less reckless.” This time, Catherine sighed but nodded for him to continue. This was the rant she deserved, after all. “You left me behind! When I saw that archdemon or whatever it is swoop in, for just a moment I—Maker, and you walked physically in the Fade!”</p>
<p><br/>Catherine cringed and Dorian paused. “Are you... all right?”</p>
<p><br/>She swallowed and looked down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. She’d just lied to Bull about it, which he was able to tell, she was sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Dorian. Though she couldn’t bring herself to say anything either. It felt like the demon had its hand wrapped around her throat.</p>
<p><br/>Her reaction, though, seemed to have been answer enough.</p>
<p><br/>“Ah, it’s as I thought. To be in the Fade is an ordeal under normal circumstances. To be the only real thing there... beyond description.” He moved to sit in his chair and she followed to sit on the floor next to him. “That any of you made it out of the Fade alive is difficult to believe. That you made it out? A miracle.”</p>
<p><br/>She curled up on herself, staring down at the tips of her shoes. “I’m sorry.” Dorian cocked his head towards her and she glanced up briefly before steeling herself to explain. “I shouldn’t have brought Bull. It was—”</p>
<p><br/>“I’m going to stop you right there.” Dorian dropped a hand on her head and forced her to look up at him. “You didn’t know that you would end up physically in the Fade. Again. You didn’t know you would end up facing a giant fear demon. If anything, I would be more upset if you didn’t have at least one of us with you through that. So you have nothing to apologize for. You both came back.”</p>
<p><br/>Catherine stared at him for a moment, but then took a breath and nodded, uncurling just a little and he gave her a nod and took back his hand. But then gave her a conspiratorial look.</p>
<p><br/>“Now tell me about it. How did your magic feel? Was it easier to cast? And what about the demons? Did they take the same shapes? Were they any stronger?” Catherine tried to hide her cringe. “No, no. Perhaps more importantly: Varric and Hawke. Do you think...?”</p>
<p><br/>Catherine laughed aloud, rolling her eyes even as she grinned up at her friend, feeling some of her stress melt away. “Oh, definitely.”</p>
<p><br/>“I knew you would see it! Cassandra isn’t convinced. The Tale of the Champion said she was involved with the Prince of Starkhaven, but I’m not certain he didn’t just write that part to bother one of them.”</p>
<p><br/>“Both of them. He would definitely do it to bother both of them.”</p>
<p><br/>Varric deserved some payback for that last chapter of <em>Starlit Passions</em>, after all, so they both snickered and continued gossiping about their resident writer until Catherine had to leave for a meeting in the war room.</p>
<p><br/>She hadn’t been looking forward to that meeting, either. With Corypheus’s demon army crushed, the only remaining event to stop from that horrific future was the assassination of Empress Celene.</p>
<p><br/>She was glad, of course, to not have to risk the lives of her army, but at the same time, she was fairly certain she was safer in the Fade than the belly of Orlesian politics. Especially since it had been... a while since she last had a dance lesson. Hopefully Josephine would be able to arrange a discreet lesson along with her next wardrobe fitting for her gown.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks everyone who told me happy things! I would be glad to see more of them. </p>
<p>So far it looks like the Winter Palace will be around chapter 50. And I'm super excited for it, because I commissioned someone to draw her for me and it turned out wonderfully! I hope you'll be looking forward to seeing it once we get there. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen gives Catherine a sword lesson</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cullen watched Catherine in the war room as she anxiously shifted her weight from one foot to the other any time someone referenced Adamant. He watched as she sagged with relief when he told her he would be glad to send soldiers with the Chargers to destroy the fortress for good. He watched as she stared at the map of Orlais and had to ask Josephine to repeat her report.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ordinarily, Cullen would ask her to a game of chess after a meeting, but with her distraction and anxiety, he wondered if maybe another route would be better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catherine, do you have some time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused at the door before leaving and smiled at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. A chess match?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually, I was thinking a spar. With swords, not magic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine gave a surprised laugh even as she followed him out of the room. “That’s not a very fair fight, you know. I’ve got more experience avoiding swords than holding them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave her a dry look. “I know, that’s why I suggested it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine thought she could probably feel insulted, but just smirked up at him instead. “So less of a spar and more of a lesson, then? I suppose it would be a good idea to learn how to get stabbed less.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the idea.” He paused, though when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked down at her and saw her slightly blushing face and struggled to keep his eyes from drifting across the rest of her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we just do it somewhere less public than the sparring ring? I’d rather not risk the morale of the Inquisition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen chuckled and led on once she dropped her hand. “Normally I tell my recruits that embarrassment is almost as good a teacher as an injury, but I suppose I can make an exception.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of heading to the training grounds, they grabbed a pair of blunted training swords and went down to the large hall by the kitchens. It wasn’t exactly private with the kitchen staff going in and out, but it was certainly quieter than the courtyard would have been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood across from one another and Catherine tried to mimic Cullen’s stance when she held up her sword. It was heavier than she’d expected, almost as heavy as her staff despite it being considerably shorter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Cullen lunged and she braced herself as she tried to knock it away. Instead, he used the force of her attempted block to swing his sword around to redirect his attack into another vulnerable spot. She froze and then sighed as he pulled away, obviously trying to hide a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite her wounded pride, she couldn’t help grinning back as he explained what she’d done wrong, how to correct it and told her to try again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over and over, he lunged and she tried to dodge or parry or block his attacks, and over and over he corrected her stance, her movements, or the angle of her sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine tried her best to learn, but occasionally he would slip behind her to nudge her foot into a wider stance or hold her arms to show her how to properly slash an invisible enemy and she was left blushing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d always known how handsome her Commander was. It was hard to ignore, after all, especially since she saw him so often. Somehow, she’d become accustomed to somehow being utterly surrounded by incredibly gorgeous people </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time</span>
  </em>
  <span> since she’d joined the Inquisition, so it wasn’t really his attractiveness alone that left her blushing, but that combined with his proximity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While she lived in the Circle, she was not on the receiving end of much touching—she wasn’t on the giving end very often, either, but that was beside the point—and while there was slightly more contact since she’d joined the Inquisition, that was usually a friendly pat or taking care of a wound. This was still for a purpose and not just for the sake of it, but she still wasn’t quite accustomed to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So in her distraction, when she ended up on her ass with her sword sliding across the floor to the other side of the room, all she could do was laugh through her blush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen felt like he could have fallen over in the face of her happily laughing as she sat on the floor, embarrassed and grinning up at him, and he gave her a helpless smile of his own as he offered his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d suggest not letting go of your weapon in a real fight.” She chuckled as she took his hand and let him help her back to her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t think a damsel in distress strategy will work against the Venatori?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t make it Plan A, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snorted and grinned at him before dropping his hand to retrieve her sword. Then she got into position, ready for the next round. They continued sparring until Catherine was well and truly worn out and both of them were sweating. They migrated to the kitchens to get some water and a bite to eat and as they sat, and Cullen tried to think about the gentlest way he could approach the subject of Adamant without ruining the calm she’d finally seemed to grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bull was in my office earlier today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” she hummed around her bite of an apple and he had to suppress a smile at her expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When he was delivering Lieutenant Aclassi’s proposal to demolish Adamant. He mentioned some demons that you faced in the Fade had taken different shapes to different people.” He watched as her expression fell and she looked down. “You don’t have to talk about it, of course, but if you ever want to, you’ve my ear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat silently for what felt to Cullen like several excruciating moments, and he wished not for the first time that he could claw his words out of the air and make it so he’d never said them to begin with. But then she spoke up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Failure.” Her voice was a whisper, staring down at the red apple in her hand. She set it down on the table, suddenly finding its sweetness cloying rather than refreshing. The color made her stomach turn. “I saw failure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d seen all the people she cared about becoming red lyrium behemoths. Becoming ghouls. Becoming shambling corpses. She had to kill the demons and had to listen to the voices of the people she loved cursing her, begging for help, gurgling for air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Cullen looking at her with some mix of worry and confidence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We haven’t failed yet. You’ve already stopped half of that future you saw. We will stop the other. You aren’t alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a shaky breath, pinching her eyes shut against the prickling she felt as she reached up to cover his hand with hers. “The Inquisition forces, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, bashed yourselves against the walls of Redcliffe Castle until there was nothing left of you.” She struggled to breathe as she remembered the smell of decay in that tainted, magic-thick air. She was horrified when she read what had happened to the armies of the Inquisition and Ferelden. She still felt sick when she remembered how her friends’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>bodies </span>
  </em>
  <span>had sung. “Leliana and Varric and Bull were all that was left of the Inquisition. And I had to watch them go, too. Thrown to the ground like ragdolls. I couldn’t do anything. And I know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know </span>
  </em>
  <span>it hasn’t happened, but it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was all—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Cullen cut her off as he tried to steady himself, wishing he could pull her into his arms but settling for squeezing her shoulder. He knew the helplessness of watching while friends were killed feet away, just out of reach. He knew the fear of what could happen from letting his guard down for even a moment. It was a fear that had consumed him for too long and he desperately wanted to keep it from consuming her, too. “It was real. But so is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He gave her another short squeeze. “We can keep it from happening again. We’re all with you. You aren’t alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine shivered, but she squeezed his hand back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I do enough?” Her voice was thick when she spoke this time, and so quiet he had to strain to hear. “Could I have brought Justinia back? Her body? Stroud?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen wanted to jump over the table and hold her as he felt his heart break at the pain in her voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he admitted as he felt her shudder under his hand. “But I don’t believe anyone else could have done more than you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine swallowed back a sob as she looked away and pinched her eyes shut. She didn’t know if that was the answer she was looking for. She didn’t know if there even was one, since no answer would bring them back, but it left her without any other words as she just tried to calm herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here for you. For talking or training or playing chess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She managed a watery smile and squeezed the hand that was still resting on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. I hope you know I’m here for you too, Cullen.” He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, once she was alone in her room, she’d wonder about his hands. Wonder if they were really the same size, if he just happened to also be so gentle. If it was alright for her to enjoy being wrapped up in his arms too.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I might have to bump up the story rating again soon. But the slow burn will not end just yet. It'll still be quite a while.</p>
<p>Also, if I should add more tags to this story, let me know your suggestions. I'm never quite sure what I should have.</p>
<p>Anyway, hope you have a wonderful week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine gets her hands on the latest chapter of Varric's book</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Cyrus groaned as heat pooled both in the center of his chest and lower. Maker, but he was weak to the man. He sat up, pulling away from his lover for the moment to start pulling at the clasps of his own robes, knowing from experience that it would take far too long for his liking if he were to leave it to the other man—not because he couldn’t figure out the complicated outfit, but because he enjoyed taking his time. It was sweet, in a way, but Cyrus was simply used to trysts, fast and quiet, afraid of getting caught or lingering too long.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His lover, however, endeavored to drag out every single moment, every single touch as long as possible. Even now, his hands caught Cyrus's preventing the layers of buckles and cloth from falling away too quickly.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “May I?” he asked, and Cyrus suppressed a sigh but nodded and moved his hands so that his unnamed lover would be able to undress him instead. And, as usual, he took his time, turning each unclasping into a lingering caress and each fallen strap into a tender touch that left Cyrus aching before anything had even begun. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Must you go so slowly?” he whined when— </em>
</p><p>A sudden knock at the door startled Catherine out of her engrossed reading and rushed to pull on her blindfold as she called for her visitor to enter. Varric had released another chapter of <em> Starlit Passion </em> and after Cassandra had passed her a copy, she’d dodged nobles in the great hall after meeting with her advisors to hurry back to her room to start reading. Evidently, she’d lost track of time.</p><p>Cullen kneeled and kissed her hand when she’d offered it to him, but he noticed her cheeks were even redder than usual. For a moment, he was concerned that maybe she’d come down with a fever and the reason she had left the war room in such a hurry was because she wasn’t feeling well, but then he noticed the book still half on her lap and smiled with a raised brow that she couldn’t see.</p><p>“Did I interrupt your reading?” He watched as her flush spread to her ears.</p><p>“I wouldn’t—well I was reading, but I don’t think a welcome visit is exactly <em> interrupting.</em>”</p><p>Cullen grinned as he watched her flounder. He’d never admit it, but Dorian was right. Teasing her was delightful.</p><p>“I could read to you, if you would like to continue?”</p><p>He heard a tiny squeak come from her and she opened and closed her mouth a few times before covering her face with the hand he wasn’t holding. </p><p>Catherine could have sworn even her toes were blushing. She assumed that he’d at least done some reading, or maybe just heard a lot about the stories she enjoys given... everything, but there was still quite the gulf between him making her the center of one of the stories and reading one to her. Aloud. In his voice. While his warmth was right next to hers.</p><p>Maker, she feared she would combust at the thought.</p><p>Her head was nodding anyway.</p><p>She both cursed him and—so very desperately—wanted to kiss him when she heard that honey-mead chuckle. “Where did you leave off?”</p><p>“Middle of the page or so.” Even she could tell that her voice was higher than normal and she tried to subtly clear her throat as he settled onto the seat next to her. <em> Oh, Maker</em>, she thought, unsure if having him closer was better or worse. <em> Both, probably</em>, she decided as he smoothed out the page and she felt the warmth radiating off his arm as it rested against the back of the loveseat behind her. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“Relax, my lady,” he encouraged with a quieter voice, though she would swear that she could hear the smile in it. His hand trailed down her upper arm and then back up to her shoulder and repeated the loop again and again. <em> That doesn’t help</em>, her voice squeaked in her head, but she managed to let her shoulders drop and lean into his warmth a little more.</p><p>“‘Must you go so slowly?’ he whined when his lover planted kisses on his fingertips as he slowly worked off the glove he’d so achingly slowly unbuckled. ‘Do you not like it?’ he asked, sounding genuinely concerned and Cyrus gave a sigh.</p><p>“‘Do as you please.’”</p><p>Catherine sighed and snuggled closer to her narrator, already entranced. She wasn’t sure she would be able to go back to reading on her own when she could listen to him read instead. She still felt her face burning with a flush and resisted the ever-growing urge to maybe ask her own mystery visitor to maybe take just half a step closer to the actions of the characters he was narrating. </p><p>If she was honest with herself, she wanted more than half a step, and listening to him describe several steps more certainly did nothing to quell that desire. But she also knew that there was a vast difference between the books she enjoyed and the reality she inhabited. She was already being spoiled beyond belief.</p><p>So she settled for resting her head on her visitor’s shoulder and feeling the rumbling of his chest as he read, sighing with contentment.</p><p>“His lover was quiet for a while as he studied his expression and then smiled just a little pressing a whisper of a kiss against Cyrus's knuckles. Then he tugged the glove off a little more, letting his fingertips trail lightly against the forearm slowly being exposed, leaving goosebumps in their wake.</p><p>“‘Every moment I have with you, I wish I could make last forever.’”</p><p>Cullen dropped his voice to a whisper, pressing his cheek to the crown of Catherine’s head as he read. He felt himself blushing at reading his own feelings aloud, even if they weren’t his own words, but he smiled as Catherine’s reaction was the same as the main character.</p><p>“The combination of his lover’s deep voice and breath grazing his skin made a shiver go down Cyrus’s spine. ‘I savor every second I can touch you.’”</p><p>Emboldened, Cullen ran his hand over Catherine’s shoulder and down her arm before sliding back up again. Again, like her counterpart, she gasped. Like his counterpart, he was delighted. Unlike his counterpart, he also almost regretted it because, <em> Maker </em> , that sound went straight to his trousers. He wanted more than anything to continue acting out the scene with her rather than simply read to her and it only just suddenly occurred to him that reading <em> this </em> aloud with her <em> right there </em>was likely a terrible idea.</p><p>As subtly as he could, he tried to readjust himself. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did I steal the writing of Starlit Passion from one of my other Male Inquisitor/Dorian fanfics? You bet. Has that story been posted so it's available to read if you want to have your heart melt into a buddle of Dorian-shaped goo? Yes (finally). </p><p>I'm having a crap day, but hope yours is going better. And if not, hope this was at least a fun read.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine likes Cullen's hands</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Evidently, Cullen wasn’t as subtle as he hoped with his readjustment. Catherine stopped leaning against him, and he was both grateful for and disappointed by the distance. Before he could come up with a tactful explanation—or white lie—she continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to continue if it—well, um. I can keep reading on my own. Later.” Her visitor’s movement had startled her out of the stupor his voice and warmth had lulled her into. Of course, she desperately wanted him to continue, wanted to dip her toes a little further into the fantasy that only existed in the novels she read, but that was just the problem. She inhabited reality and was only going to embarrass herself if she continued. If </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>continued. “Besides, I can read any time. Useful for killing time while travelling. I do a lot of that, after all. Travelling, that is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen replaced her bookmark and set it aside as she rambled, suddenly worried that he’d made her uncomfortable, that he’d gone too far. As he watched her fiddle with the hem of her oversized shirt—which still haunted him in the best and worst ways most hours—his trousers slowly became less of an issue. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, hoping he would be able to put her at ease again and cut off her anxious rambling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would you like to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched her mouth click shut and her head dropped down as if to look at their hands despite the blindfold. He made to pull back, afraid that, too, had made her uncomfortable, but she caught it. Then the rest of her stiffened, as if she hadn’t expected her hands to do that either, and he had to hold back a laugh. Still, he gave her hand a small squeeze and then allowed his go lax in hers, letting her do as she wished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched her shoulders slowly drop again as she pulled his hand into her lap, tracing the lines and callouses of his palm in a way that was both pleasant and ticklish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you heard of palm readings, Serah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nonsense, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine chuckled, grinning down at the hand she held as she nodded. “Yes, but the fun kind.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>The kind that lets me keep touching you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she didn’t say. “Some of the acolytes would do it in the circle,” she said instead as she ran her finger over the deep creases of his palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you have yours read?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once.” She shrugged. She didn’t mention that her lifeline was short and shallow. She felt him shifting and made to release his hand again, but he didn’t try to take it back. Instead she felt his knee bump hers where he pulled his leg up onto the sofa too and when he spoke, his voice was closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on then, let’s see how well you learned your nonsense lessons,” he teased, smiling when he earned another small laugh. Then he felt her fingertips tracing his palm again, slowly this time as she tried to feel out the creases and divine some kind of meaning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a long life line. It starts all the way over here.” Her finger slid to just a little above his thumb, “and goes almost all the way to your wrist,” she added as her finger slid in a smooth arc to the heel of his palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means you’ll grow old and grey.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And survive this Inquisition</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, what else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine hummed, moving her finger further in on his palm to feel for his fate line. “Your fate line is faint. I can barely feel it.” She traced over what she thought was the line and tilted her head in concentration, closing her eyes even behind the blindfold. “A shallow line means you’re largely in control of your own fate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen hummed and tried not to shiver at the ticklishness as her finger slid back towards his thumb. Then he heard her give a quiet laugh to herself and he tilted his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your head line. It’s deep, so the things you think about are complicated. It’s long too, which means you study many subjects. But it’s also almost completely straight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And it being straight means...?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means you are a straightforward man, Serah. Traditional and direct.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen felt himself flushing. That was certainly not something he wanted to tell her other advisors. Maker knew they already thought as much, and didn’t need any more confirmation. But he was distracted as Catherine’s finger slid further up. Then he felt her pause again as her finger slid over his upper palm several times</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something wrong?” He tilted his head, wondering as she remained quiet, but she shook her head even as she traced over it again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, just feeling your heart line. It starts below your index finger, meaning you’re the faithful sort.” She flashed him a small smile before dropping her head to hide her face again as she tried to shove down the complicated feelings she had. “It feels like there are two lines making it up. The first is short and fairly shallow, meaning not long-lasting or terribly significant. Then the second is—” she paused as she traced it again, trying to smother the faint—ridiculous, pointless—jealousy that tried to flare up in her. “The second is very deep. And very long. See, the first one starts all the way over here, almost as far as your lifeline.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen felt her finger slid all the way to the side of his hand as she went back to the shallow part of his lifeline and his mind wandered to a decade earlier, to a different mage who had become a different hero.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And it’s short enough that the deep one still starts under your index finger. Here.” She tapped his palm where the long, deep line started and then slid her finger all the way to the outer edge of his palm. Then she tapped that spot. “And it ends over here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen felt his heart in his throat as her finger slid over the line again.</span>
  <em>
    <span> It’s all yours, if you’ll have it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He swallowed, trying to keep the words from jumping out of his chest, and then he felt his mouth go dry as she turned a bright, brilliant grin up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like you said, it’s nonsense, but it’s the fun kind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to force a chuckle. “Should I try to read yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine’s smile faltered a little, but she still gave a laugh before lifting her marked hand up and giving her fingers a little wiggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’ll be hard to read now, what with all the glowing and such.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if to punctuate her point, the mark gave a bright flare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen stared at it for a moment and then reached to capture it in both of his hands before pressing another kiss to her knuckles. “I suppose you’ll get to make your own fate then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine took a shaky breath and leaned towards him, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder as their hands dropped back to her lap. She liked the sound of that, that her mark had burned away any fate she may have been tethered to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scooted closer and traced her thumb over the back of his hand. For the moment, if she was going to make her own fate, she wanted it to be filled with him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sloooowwww buuurrrnnnnnn.</p>
<p>These two are dorks and by the end of this, we are all going to be like Dorian where he's nearly pulling his hair out at their nonsense.</p>
<p>Have a good week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine surprises herself, then helps Dorian.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment Catherine woke the next morning, her first thought was of her visitor’s hands. </p><p>Light was already filtering in through the stained-glass windows of her balcony and she knew she should get up and start on work, but instead she closed her eyes and focused on the memory of his palms. </p><p>She thought about the callouses she’d traced, the years he must have spent gripping a sword for them to form. She thought about how she wanted to treat them gently, run her fingertips and graze her lips across them.</p><p>She also thought about how much she wanted to feel them on her. She wanted to feel them on her cheek, her jaw. She wanted to feel them run down her neck and over her shoulders and—</p><p>Catherine bit her lip, embarrassed despite the privacy as she slid her own hand over her chest and then beneath the covers, searching with familiarity the spots she knew she enjoyed best. But she imagined a different set of hands touching her instead.</p><p>She imagined how rough and warm they would be. She tried to picture how the added length of his fingers could reach further and how the added thickness would stretch her more than she’d ever felt with only her own hands.</p><p>A shiver went up her spine at the thought of his voice in her ear, telling her what he might want, what he might take, instead of just narrating from one of her novels. </p><p>She imagined his lips against more than just her hand, but instead on her neck, her breasts, down her stomach and joining the fantasy of his hands. She bit into her lip more and whimpered at the thought of his lips on hers, of his stubble scraping at her thighs, of his tongue replacing her circling fingertips.</p><p>Then she choked down a gasp at the wave of electricity that scattered over her skin at the thought of him looking up at her from between her legs. She turned and whimpered into her pillow, the image burning itself into the back of her mind.</p><p>She’d never seen his eyes, never seen his skin or hair, only felt them under her hands.</p><p>But somehow the face she’d pictured looking up at her was remarkably similar to her commander.</p><p>The heat she’d felt drained quickly as she pulled her hands away from her core even as her muscles still felt weak from the sudden rush. She opened her eyes to stare at the silk left behind on the empty pillow and tried not to wish for him to still be there, for him to be the man she rarely saw out of his armor.</p><p>With a sigh, Catherine got up and changed, heading straight for Dorian’s spot. If anyone could help her sort out whether or not it was a betrayal to wonder and imagine, he would.</p><p>Instead, Dorian got in the first word.</p><p>“I just heard Leliana talking about that ancient Tevinter text we found in the Western Approach. It sounds as if it has been translated.” Catherine had barely even rounded the corner of his nook when he started speaking. “Given the creature that swatted you all into the Fade, it might be a good idea to try to help him finish up his research and convince him to join the Inquisition.”</p><p>Having lost track of her own thoughts with the sudden news of the translated text, Catherine found herself nodding. “Having a draconologist around would be an asset.”</p><p>“If you need someone to go with you who can cast a decent barrier, I’m willing to go along.”</p><p>Catherine’s contemplative nodding stopped and she tilted her head at her friend, raising an eyebrow, suddenly suspicious.</p><p>“The last time you came with me to fight a dragon, I thought you never wanted to go up against another.</p><p>Dorian feigned offence, pressing his hand to his chest like he would swoon. “Am I not allowed to want to keep my best friend safe?”</p><p>Catherine laughed. “Usually it’s a little more begrudging. Or asking me not to do whatever risky thing in the first place.”</p><p>Dorian heaved a put-upon sigh and collapsed dramatically back into his seat. “Fine. There may be something that I would like to have made as a gift. And doing so evidently requires killing a dragon.”</p><p>Catherine stared, head tilted and confused until she saw the slight blush climbing into his cheeks. Her face broke into a soft grin, realizing that whatever-this-was would be for Bull, and she was overwhelmingly happy for her friend.</p><p>“Of course we’ll go.”</p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Cullen, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Next time I say I’m going to the Western Approach, please remind me to just not. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There are darkspawn wandering now. We’ll need more men to clear out the sulfur pits so that we can go investigate where they’re coming from and close it off.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Am I the only one getting anxious about the number of darkspawn we’ve seen on the surface while also fighting an ancient magister who seems to be able to control the Blight? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maker, I hope I’m just paranoid. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Also, whatever you think will help the morale of the people we have posted out here, do it. Much as I hate this wretched place, these people have been out here for weeks, and will be for yet weeks more. They deserve a decent meal, at least. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hope you’re all well at Skyhold. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Serah, </em>
</p><p><em> I once again find myself in the place I hate perhaps the most in all of Thedas. But at least this time it’s for the sake of the man I love perhaps the most in all of Thedas and not for some more gut-wrenching purpose. Wait. Platonically, that is! </em> <em><strike> I mean, hes Oh Maker</strike> </em> <em> I’m going to fight another dragon. I am afraid, for both myself and my friends. Other complications have arisen as well, so it will be longer than I hoped before I see you again. </em> <strike><em> Well, “see” isn’t exactly </em></strike></p><p>
  <em> I swear, I really am trying to write letters as sweet as yours. I wish I could find the words to make you smile like yours do to me. Please do keep writing me. Maybe it’s a skill I can build with practice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Catherine, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maker, I hope we’re both just paranoid, then. I’ll see to it that the Wardens start training with our soldiers and have Varric send a letter to Hawke at Weishaupt. I’d rather be prepared than caught unaware by another Blight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Men are on their way to clear out the sulfur pits, and Josephine has arranged for a caravan of food supplies, a cook, books and a shoemaker as well as his supplies. If the approach is half as bad as you say, I’d say our men have earned it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know it’s futile to say, but still, please be safe out there. I would hate to have to find another chess partner. Leliana cheats more poorly than Dorian. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Perhaps I shouldn’t have put that in writing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In any case, stay safe. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cullen </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dearest Lady, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I am sorry to hear that you are somewhere you hate, but I hope it is made more comfortable by being around those you love. It may be contrary to say in the face of a dragon and whatever else you may fight, but please be careful. Though I hope you do not get injured, I will gladly tend to you and whatever wounds you have when you return if only you make it back to me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As for making me smile, I promise there is nothing else you need to do to accomplish that. Every time I have a letter from you in hand, I smile, even when it causes questioning looks from those around. Although, I will not discourage your practice as I hope it means I will continue to receive them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Keep smiling </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. Went ahead and changed the rating to E starting with this chapter because while not super explicit, still felt like it crossed the threshold. Still gonna be a slow burn. Like the slowest.<br/>2. On that slow burn note, just jumped several chapters ahead on my writing today for the heck of it and, uh, once we get to that point? Let's just say the slow burn will be worth it. There's gonna be payoff. Like. Oh my gosh. So, y'know, hang in there with me. It's gonna be a while, but it'll be all the better for it.<br/>3. Next chapter is my favorite chapter of anything I've ever written, so look forward to that on Monday.<br/>4. On a personal note, depression has been kicking my butt hard the last few weeks. Luckily I have like 20 chapters written ahead so you'll still have regular updates, but I'm still trying to maintain that lead. And all of your comments about how much you're enjoying this story and tidbits of good news that you've been sharing have been keeping me going. Thank you all so much. This story and these two goobers are the little bit of joy I've been able to scrape out of my brain and it means a lot that you all are enjoying it and looking forward to more every week too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine tries to distract Bull for Dorian</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Like Quiet</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chapter 28</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine stared into the tankard of what Bull claimed to be some kind of alcohol—she was still uncertain, given that the short sniff she took of it felt like it had burned the inside of her nose—and reminded herself that she would gladly throw herself in front of a dragon for her friend. Surely she could manage to drink this awful thing for the sake of distracting his lover long enough for him to do whatever he needed to have his gift made. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Squaring her shoulders, she threw the tankard back, eyes watering the moment the fluid touched her tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She put the tankard back down, choking on what she was certain was the flesh of her own throat, and tried to glare up at Bull, but couldn’t quite tell which one she was supposed to look at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, right? Put some chest on your chest.” She looked down and patted her chest, trying to focus her eyes and see if there was more there than before. It still felt as flat as ever, but couldn’t quite tell. “That little gurgle right before it spat fire. And that roar. What I wouldn’t give to roar like that. The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of the fires burning. Taarsidath-an halsaam.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked up at him again, trying to focus on the one she was pretty sure was the right one, and frowned. Catherine thought he just spoke qunlat but also distantly wondering if sounds were multiplying like her vision. But before she could ask, he continued, and those sounds did form words that she recognized, so her question slipped away as she tried to follow what he was saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred.” Then she saw all of the Bulls lean closer—or was she leaning closer?—and filled her cup again. She frowned at it, but lifted it to drink anyway. She killed a dragon, damnit. She could drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! The second cup’s easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared down at her cup, thinking she saw the bottom, but with the way her vision was swimming, she couldn’t tell if it was empty or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ataashi, ‘The Glorious Ones.’” Catherine rolled her head to look towards the Bulls, eyes switching between their lips to make sure they matched the sounds she was hearing. She wasn’t positive, but they seemed to match. “Ataaaashiiiiiiii.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pointed at him. Well, she tried but her finger tapped the side of her nose once and she frowned down at it and tapped it again to make sure that was where it was before purposefully turning her wrist to point towards Bull #3.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you put it like that, ‘m worried I killed your god or somethin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, one of Tevinter’s gods, maybe. They worshipped dragons, right? Kill the shit out of them all you like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand fell as he reached over to pour another drink and she followed his hand to grab her cup and down it too, even as her mind circled the word Tevinter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After she swallowed, she looked up at him with a giant grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like Tevinter, though!” She paused and frowned. “A Tevinter. Dorian.” She sniffed, thinking about that blush he’d had when asking her to go to the Western Approach again. “I’m so glad you make him happy. You know you make him happy, right? ‘Cause heeeeee’s the happiest.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine reached out to pat the shoulder of Bull #3 but missed and hit the forearm of Bull #2. She frowned at her hand but then smiled up at him. “I love him, you know. Dorian is probably the first friend I’ve ever had. I love you too, though!” Then she sniffed again, feeling her lip wobble with the desire to cry but she tried to hold it back as she patted Bull #2’s arm. “I should tell you all that more before Coryphyshit kills me.” She took a deep breath and then looked up at Bull #2’s face. “I love you. Aaaaaaall of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at what she was pretty sure was a smile on his face and giggled. “And you’re all so, soooo gorgeous. Like paintings. How did you all do that? But! That’s not the point. The point!” she raised her free hand up, pointing at the ceiling and pausing to look down at the tankard that wobbled, not sure if she hit it or if it decided to move on its own. “Love you.” She brought her hand back down to point at Bull #1. “Love you all so much. Like... Like enough to fight a hundred dragons. Each!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she gave a nod and let her hand fall back down, dropping it to her lap and moved it around a few times, not quite remembering if that was where it had been before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We love you too, boss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her head snapped up and she nearly fell off the stool, only staying in place when Bull #3’s hand caught her shoulder. “You do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull stared at her, having been amused by how much of a lightweight she was and thinking her question was sarcastic, but the shock was written all over her face. He swallowed another drink of his own, hoping it would burn away the rage and heartbreak that burned in his chest all at once. For a moment he almost wished he could throw fireballs like Dorian so that he could hurl one in the face of whoever made her wear that expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Course. You know how much Dorian talks about you and setting you up with someone? And Varric wrote that book for Cassandra because he figured her reaction would make </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>smile.” He squeezed her shoulder where he still held her in her seat and watched as her bottom lip quivered. “Sera would have tea with an actual demon for you. And Cole helps in his weird way because... well, it’s what he does, but he also wants to help you take care of your people.” Her shoulders were shaking under his hand and he had to place his other hand on her other shoulder in order to keep her from losing her balance more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Viv keeps a tight lock on rumors while you’re away so that they don’t delve into your personal life. I’ve never seen Solas smile except when you’re around, and Blackwall would throw himself into the maws of a dragon if it would save a single hair on your head.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was properly crying now, and he maneuvered her off her stool and started heading up the stairs, knowing she wouldn’t want the rest of the Inquisition seeing her cry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t tell her that he loved her too. That she was as much his heart as Dorian and the Chargers. That he’d go into the fade and throw himself between her and that fear demon shit again if it would keep her safe, not because it was his job, but because half of his nightmares were watching her fall to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He loved her too, and hearing her say she expected to die scared the shit out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Need to tell everyone I love them,” she mumbled beside him as he helped her up the next flight of stairs. “And Krem! And the Chargers! I love them too, y’know. They’re good. Krem is good. You should tell him he’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm. We can tell him in the morning,” he assured, grabbing her arm before she turned back around to try to go back downstairs. Eventually, he managed to wrangle her into Cullen’s office, where the Commander looked up with some alarm as she hung off of him. “She’s fine. Drank too much.” Bull explained as Cullen rushed out from his desk to pull her into his arms, not mentioning that he was the one who got her drunk. He figured it would be informative, but hadn’t expected her to be quite such a lightweight. Or as affectionate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cullen! Oh, hi.” Cullen tried to suppress a smile as she grinned up at him. “Is your cloak warm? Looks warm. Soft.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good if I leave her with you? Don’t think her legs are stable enough to get her up all the stairs to her room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. I’ll watch her. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull gave him a nod and left, wondering if maybe getting her drunk was as much a help to her relationship as her distraction was supposed to be for his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen tried to maneuver her towards the ladder, hoping she was coherent enough to at least manage that since he didn’t like the idea of making her sleep on the floor of his office. She managed to get half way up and he was reaching up after her, supporting her and making sure she wouldn’t fall, but then she paused and dropped a hand and turned to look down at him, swinging a little away from the ladder and he caught her, missing the serious look she gave him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost choked and looked up at her, catching her nod to herself before climbing up the rest of the way and he tried to follow up after even as it felt like the world had shifted beneath his feet. He managed to help her stumble towards his bed and then she looked up at him with a giant grin and nodded again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s mouth opened and closed and opened again, trying to find something coherent to say in response, but then she suddenly sat up and he had to catch her before she fell off the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Need to tell Leliana and Josie! Love them too. I love all of you. You’re all good. Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen couldn’t help a laugh, wondering what in the Maker’s name she’d had to drink before guiding her back into his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can tell them in the morning, Catherine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hummed and squirmed around in his sheets a little to get comfortable before she finally settled enough that he was sure she wasn’t going to suddenly get up and fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want your shoes off?” he asked, and she just hummed again, eyes going heavy as she yawned and he rolled his eyes even as he smiled and moved to start unlacing her boots.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Elderfl’r,” she sighed before her breath went steady, but Cullen felt his heart skip a beat, hands frozen with one boot half off her foot until he was sure she was asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he let out the breath he’d been holding and then pulled off her boot and started working on the next. Once they were both safely placed by the foot of his bed, he pulled the covers over her and then sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. He wore a small smile as he looked at her sleeping face, even as a tinge of disappointment settled at the bottom of his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It was so much fun to write this chapter. Just giggle-snorted the whole time. </p>
<p>Hope you have a great week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Josephine asks for help. Catherine has a hangover.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Inquisitor! I must speak with you,” Josephine called when Catherine stepped into her office and, Maker, the hall had been loud, but she winced and had to bite her lip to keep from shushing her ambassador.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” she asked, feeling like the words set loose a stone fist inside her own skull. She’d woken up in Cullen’s bed—and Maker, she was not going to be able to look him in the eyes for a few days—and then managed to get up to her room and brush her teeth and wash her face, but she had really hoped that the war room meeting for the day would be a nice, quiet affair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I... must explain something first about the Montilyets’ fortunes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm?” she managed, trying to hide her discomfort while also trying to recall what she’d heard from Josephine previously. “You can’t trade in Orlais, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s devastated our finances. The Montilyets have, in fact, been in debt for over a hundred years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please just tell me what you need me to do</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even her thoughts were loud enough to make her wince. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For generations we’ve done everything to keep creditors at bay. Sold our lands to stave off interest. It’s just... It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>infuriating </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see my family still reduced to this.” Catherine cringed at the combination of the woman’s volume—which would have been reasonable to anyone else—and the echoing of her shoes tapping on the stone floor. “I’m to become head of our house. If I sell any more of our land, my family will become destitute. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot </span>
  </em>
  <span>be my legacy to them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I do?” Catherine asked, almost begging as she just wanted to have a task instead of more words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maker, please no more sounds</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d almost solved our problems. For a while.” Catherine hummed and tried not to make it sound like a sigh. “I negotiated a chance to reinstate the Montilyets as landed traders in Orlais. We could rebuild with that. But when I dispatched paperwork to Val Royeaux...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine nodded slowly, though that hurt too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve just learned my carriers were murdered. And the documents restoring my family’s trading status destroyed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who would do it?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, Josie</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leliana made inquiries that bore success. Comte Boisvert, a nobleman in Val Royeaux, claims to know who killed my messengers.” Josephine paused and Catherine gave a gesture to continue, not chancing another head nod. “He has a request: That you come when I meet him, so he’s seen ‘publicly conferring’ with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Is tomorrow soon enough to leave?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Josephine exclaimed, and Catherine tried to hide another wince. “Thank you, Inquisitor! It means... You are too kind. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>must </span>
  </em>
  <span>know who killed my couriers just to harm my family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine gave another nod and then followed Josephine into the war room, praying with all she had that she could just tell them all she’d be leaving tomorrow and give her the reports to read along the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plus, she thought, it meant she wouldn't have to nearly die of embarrassment from being in the same room as Cullen for a few days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Serah,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you had two friends who are so obviously in love but suddenly upset with one another, what would you do? I have very little experience with friendships and even less with relationships of the non-platonic sort, but I still have the urge to meddle. Not that I would know what to do if I were to meddle. I just want them to be happy. Although, I've never really seen anyone have reason to be happy in Val Royeaux. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>On that note, if I ever become the sort who would rather remain tied up in an antique cabinet and lay in wait for a locksmith for hours rather than have the doors broken, please do Thedas a favor and throw the cabinet into the river with me still locked inside. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope you can forgive me for always being dour in my letters. I love yours and can’t ever seem to find the right words to reciprocate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss Skyhold. I miss you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cullen,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you know that Orlais apparently has its own assassination guild like the Crows? Except extremely Orlesian? Because until I sat across from one of its members, I did not. That is to say, there are apparently Orlesian assassins who are aiming to kill our ambassador. Who were hired by a family who is no longer noble and somehow thus unable to cancel the apparently ancient contract. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I could say that the messenger is dead, alas, Josephine is too kind and I was afraid of disappointing her. Hopefully less polite assassins won’t be popping out of any bushes on the way back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I know I sound flippant, but if my poor penmanship hasn’t tipped you off, I am concerned. I’d be surprised if Leliana doesn’t already know, but please make sure she does. And maybe some more guard rotations? I’m used to having raving lunatics with pet dragons aiming to kill me. Assassins aiming for the people around me are not an enemy that I am familiar with.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Josephine has a plan already, something about raising a branch of the family back up to nobility so that they can cancel the contract so I’m writing to her contacts, too. If we can resolve this without anyone dying, I would be glad, but Maker, sometimes I hate politics.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Barring any successful assassins, we will see you soon.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night Catherine returned from Orlais, Cullen pulled her into his arms the moment after he kissed her hand. Her penmanship hadn’t been poor, but he’d learned that the more flippant her letters, the more worried she was. He knew she cared for Josephine and was sure she was worried. He was too, after all. And while he always worried for Catherine’s safety while she was travelling—despite knowing her abilities and knack for staying alive in situations that seem impossible to survive—he'd been especially worried for her as he awaited her return this time. After all, as she had said: armies were one thing. Assassins were entirely different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave a surprised sound but hugged him back just as fiercely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Her voice was muffled against his vest, but neither of them let go for a long while. She wondered if he could tell she was worried about more than just her friends’ relationship from her letter, but decided it didn’t really matter either way as she buried her face in his vest and inhaled the scent of elderflower and oakmoss. She tried to gather what courage and strength she could from him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TW// Transphobia, violence against trans people, suicide</p>
<p>There are several grocery stores near me, but there is one that I always go to because there are visibly queer people who work and shop there. The first time I went, there was a gay couple there about my parents age holding hands and talking about dinner.</p>
<p>I always use the self-checkout, and the woman who worked there was a trans woman. I only ever saw shoppers be nice to her. (Keep in mind, I live in Indiana, the state where the current VP is from and where he was governor. Where his brother currently holds a state office. It's not exactly LGBT+ friendly.)</p>
<p>Basically, that store has always been heart-warming to me.</p>
<p>Sunday, the trans woman who worked at that store was murdered while walking home. On National Coming Out Day. </p>
<p>There have been over 30 murders of trans women in the US this year. This is the deadliest year for trans people in the US. This violence is on top of an already deadly pandemic. This is on top of 40% of trans adults having attempted suicide at some point in their lives according to The Report of the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey. So that study was conducted before the 2016 election. It was before my former governor became VP. It was before the military banned trans servicemembers. </p>
<p>All this to say, I am again gutted.</p>
<p>I've donated to Trans Lifeline, The Okra Project and The Trevor Project. If you have the ability, I encourage you to do so too. If you don't have the money, I encourage you to support trans candidates running for office. Even if you aren't in the US, you can still phone bank or text bank for a candidate. (You just can't donate, since that would be the same as the Russia Stuff.)</p>
<p></p><blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
  <p>There are at least eight trans women running for state legislative seats who will be on the ballot this fall:<br/>
Rep. <a href="https://twitter.com/BriannaForCO?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@BriannaForCO</a><br/>
Rep. <a href="https://twitter.com/Lisa4Exeter?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@Lisa4Exeter</a> (NH)<br/>
Rep. <a href="https://twitter.com/GerriCannon?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@GerriCannon</a> (NH)<a href="https://twitter.com/SarahEMcBride?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@SarahEMcBride</a> (DE - SD1)<a href="https://twitter.com/ByersForKansas?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@ByersForKansas</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/JanelleForPA199?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@JanelleForPA199</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/TaylorSmallVT?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@TaylorSmallVT</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/Jess4Assembly?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@Jess4Assembly</a> (WI)<br/>
<br/>
Go win.</p>
  <p>— Danica Roem (@pwcdanica) <a href="https://twitter.com/pwcdanica/status/1306055344632799232?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">September 16, 2020</a></p>
</blockquote>And in general, please just be kind and take care of yourselves and one another.
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine is worried about Josephine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I just can’t imagine caring that much about a cabinet.”</p><p>“<em>Orlesians</em>.”</p><p>Catherine laughed and nudged her visitor’s shoulder. “I’m sure there are Fereldens who would care about some old cabinet too. People are people, no matter where they’re born. Some of them are decent people, some are raving lunatics, and some care too much about their furniture.”</p><p>She shivered when she felt the vibration of his chuckle. “And which, my lady, are you?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m a raving lunatic for sure. Who else would agree to defy the chantry and lead an army against an ancient magister?”</p><p>He laughed and pressed his cheek against her head. “Perhaps you need a category of your own. I think those who would dare to oppose such a woman would be the raving lunatics.”</p><p>She snorted. “Perhaps we’re all—”</p><p>Suddenly, loud and fast knocks rang from her door and they both straightened in surprise.</p><p>“Inquisitor! I’m sorry to disturb you, your worship, but Lady Nightingale sent me!” came the muffled call.</p><p>“Stay here. I won’t look,” she promised, tapping his shoulder before standing and heading to the stairs, untying the silk from her eyes as she went.</p><p>More knocks came and another call, and Catherine opened the door, a mix between worried and annoyed, but before she could even ask, the agent reported.</p><p>“There was an attack, your worship. Ambassador Montilyets’ office was—”</p><p>Before the woman even finished, Catherine dropped the silk and sprinted past the agent with a quick apology to her visitor shouted over her shoulder. She raced down the stairs as fast as she could manage.</p><p><em> Maker, please let her be okay. Please let her be safe. </em> Normally it was the climb to her bedroom that seemed to take forever, but for once the descent seemed to take just as long. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, rushing in time with her feet.</p><p>“Inquisitor!” Josephine’s voice rang the moment she threw open the door to the office, and Catherine’s knees nearly gave out in relief.</p><p>“Thank the Maker, you’re safe.”</p><p>“Yes, thanks to one of Leliana’s agents.” Catherine only noticed then Leliana and another one of her agents in the room, along with the crumpled body on the floor and the pool of blood beneath it. She looked back up, but Josephine was still staring down at the body, grief-stricken, and even in the dim light Catherine could see her ambassador’s hands shaking.</p><p>Steadying herself, she walked around the body and stepped in front of Josephine to block her view and threw a brief glance at the agent still in the corner.</p><p>“Josephine, you’re sure there isn’t a quicker way to deal with this contract?”</p><p>“There is, Inquisitor,” Leliana stepped in, leaving her agent to handle the body. “The original contract on her life is in the vaults of the House of Repose. My agents could infiltrate it and destroy the original, leaving the assassins with no reason to chase her.”</p><p>“That sounds—”</p><p>“No, please,” Josephine cut in before Catherine could finish. The ambassador’s expression was twisted with concern.  “I want no more blood shed over a personal affair.” Her eyes lifted over Catherine’s shoulder where the body was being dragged out.</p><p>Leliana sighed the kind of sigh that said they had already hashed this out before.</p><p>Catherine looked between them for a moment, Josephine’s expression imploring while Leliana’s was enraged. She understood both. The idea of someone attacking a person she cared about over something like trade burned in her gut. She wanted to set them on fire herself. Leave the assassin’s corpse to be picked over by Leliana’s ravens. But she also knew Josephine’s expression. Catherine hadn’t seen a dead body until the Circles fell. It was—well, she hated how commonplace it had become in her life. She didn’t want to kill anyone if she wasn’t forced into it.</p><p>“You’re certain, Josephine?”</p><p>Her ambassador nodded. “I may be shaken now, but that won’t change my mind."</p><p>Leliana frowned but Catherine nodded. Then she pulled Josephine in for a hug, making the woman stiffen in sudden surprise and Catherine quickly pulled away, but still squeezed her arms. “Promise me you’ll be careful. And tell me if you need anything: company, a distraction, help, anything.”</p><p>“I will,” she agreed with a shy but polite nod.</p><p>“Okay.” Catherine took a breath and nodded, dropping her hands and turning to Leliana. “Someone is to accompany her at all times. Either me or you or Cullen or one of the agents you trust most.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Anything you need tonight?”</p><p>“No. But thank you, Catherine,” Josephine said with a brief touch of her hand to Catherine’s arm.</p><p>Catherine took a sharp breath, swallowing to hold back tears as she gave a final nod and turned away from the two. For the ambassador, Catherine had always been Lady Trevelyan or Inquisitor. </p><p>oOo</p><p>As soon as Cullen heard the agent calling after Catherine, he rushed to see what was happening and just found an agent anxiously staring after the already-descended Inquisitor.</p><p>“What happened,” Cullen ordered, ignoring the agent’s look of surprise.</p><p>“Commander, ser, Ambassador Montilyet was attacked. One of our agents was able to prevent her from being harmed, but she’s in her office now with Lady Nightingale.”</p><p><em> Oh Maker. </em> Cullen’s heart was in his throat. And he ran down the stairs, following after Catherine despite her having a great lead. It was only once he got to the bottom of the steps that he realized he was still dressed as her visitor, not himself.</p><p>He headed to his office first, knowing that at least the ambassador was safe, and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. Then he shucked off his vest before calling it good enough. She wouldn’t be able to recognize him anyway. </p><p>He headed towards the Ambassador’s office then, finding Catherine on her way out with her face pinched.</p><p>“Is everything alright?” he asked, suddenly not sure that waiting had been the right choice and cursing himself silently.</p><p>“Oh, Cullen.” She looked up and visibly shook herself. “Josephine is shaken but okay. I’ve asked her to stay near one of us, me or you or Leliana, or for one of Leliana’s agents to accompany her until this is resolved.”</p><p>Cullen relaxed, relieved, until he remembered her expression. “Are you alright?”</p><p>Catherine managed a wobbly smile. “Oh, fine. Just assassins hanging about trying to kill someone I care about.” He frowned, but before he could say anything, she closed her eyes and shook her head, poorly attempted smile falling away. “Don’t mind me. Just worried. If you don’t mind, though, I do have something you can help with.”</p><p>“Of course.” He followed her lead back towards his office as she told him about an Orlesian judge who needed some soldiers who knew the mountains west of Skyhold. </p><p>Catherine hated politics, hated that she had to do more than just <em> save the damn world </em> to convince people to not try to kill her ambassador. But she was glad, at least, to have some concrete action she could take towards preventing another attack. She was still waiting for news of Countess Dione’s lover, but hopefully killing a spider to please a judge would prove faster. </p><p>After she left him with the assurance that he would have some soldiers report to Josephine in the morning, she made her way back up to her room despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep for the night. She was wholly unsurprised when she found the room empty when she called out to make sure she didn’t need to replace the silk, but was still a little disappointed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you have a great week</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blackwall's horse likes Catherine more than him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>At dawn, Catherine decided to take a break from staring at her bed’s canopy and headed down to the stables instead. It had been a while since she’d been the one to give Shiral a good brushing. Wild though the hart was, she still seemed content in the stables, though she would often fight for dominance with Elgar, the Tirashan Swiftwind. And she would ignore or threaten anyone who came to her stall other than Horsemaster Dennet or Catherine herself. Still, Shiral seemed to be able to sense Catherine’s unease and snuffled at her hair, making Catherine chuckle as she gathered her brushes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, let me get you clean so you can make Elgar jealous.” Shiral bumped her snout against Catherine’s shoulder and huffed. “Yes, I know. I still owe you sugar cubes for being civil with him on the way back from Orlais.” Catherine rolled her eyes even as she smiled and dug into her pocket to hand over a couple of cubes. “Okay, okay. Just a couple. Wait for the rest until after you’re clean.” Shiral gave another huff but still quickly ate the cubes and seemed to preen under Catherine’s praises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never had a mount like me that much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine grinned as she turned towards the gate, seeing Blackwall leaning against a post and staring at the pair, amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Champ likes you! He’s just stubborn like his rider.” Blackwall laughed out loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He likes you more than me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s because I tell him how pretty he is.” Catherine leaned out of the stable to look down at the Anderfel Courser. “Don’t I, Champ?” She reached over to the next stall when Champ moved closer and patted the white spot on his forehead affectionately. Champ nuzzled back into her hand while Shiral gave a humph, impatient for her brushing. Catherine smiled and went back to brushing out her purple mane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My point stands.” The annoyance in Blackwall's tone was softened by his smile, and Catherine rolled her eyes as she kept working. She listened as he went over to his own mount and started grumbling when the horse turned away from his offered hand. “You’re never here this early unless you’re about to leave. Off somewhere?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine shook her head as she moved on to brush the rest of Shiral’s coat. “I didn’t sleep. There was an unsuccessful assassination attempt on our ambassador last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is she alright?” He turned from the horse, smile fallen and voice upset. Catherine turned to meet his eyes again, ignoring Shiral’s impatience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s fine. One of Leliana’s agents intercepted him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why was she targeted? Venatori?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Something to do with her family and politics. We’re working on dealing with it. In the meantime, she’s going to have some of Leliana’s agents posted to her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blackwall sighed and Catherine turned back to Shiral, allowing the man his relief. She’d heard others tease him about his affection for the ambassador, but she had no intention to do so. They both deserved to be happy. She hoped they could be. “If there is anything that I can do...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine shook her head but gave him a small smile. “If something comes up, I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, just keep an eye out. We have some leads that we’re chasing down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blackwall looked unsatisfied but nodded. Catherine understood. She felt much the same, after all, knowing someone she cared about was in danger, but all she could do for the moment was wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you, how are you doing? Anything you need?” She watched surprise pass over his face for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, my lady. Certainly nothing like assassins creeping into the stables at night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced up and gave him a small smile even as her mind wandered for a moment at the phrase. She had long since mentally ruled him out as being her visitor—accent and beard and hair were all wrong, after all—but she still had to stop herself from thinking about it again. “No Calling, either?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned and shook his head. “No. I swear, if I start hearing things, you’ll be the first to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave a nod. “Okay. If you need anything, even something less dangerous than assassins or voices in your head, I’m happy to help, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You already have, my lady. I’ve been meaning to thank you anyhow. There are a hundred things that need your attention. You didn’t have to take the time to help me, yet you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well if it helps the Wardens, then it will have been worth it, even after everything.” Then she turned and grinned at him. “Besides, it’s nice to have a way to help that </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> horrendously dangerous. Good to break up the monotony of killing people and demons and darkspawn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled. “Downplay it all you like, but I’ve been following you for months now. You’ve proven yourself to be an admirable woman. Principled. I’ve great admiration for you. And I’ve never been more certain in my decision to join you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine dropped her brush in surprise and bumped her head against Shiral’s leg, making the hart humph in annoyance, as she bent down to pick it up. Sheepishly, she looked up at Blackwall. “Admiration?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave an easy shrug that left her all the more baffled. “Of course I do. You’ve got the world at your feet, myself included.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She blinked at him, and then turned back to Shiral and brushed her more, anything to try to hide the flush she felt spreading over her face. She’d become used to people seeming to not outright hate her—of course, it balanced out well with others actively trying to kill her—but friends like Dorian and, she was fairly certain, Cullen were new.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Being admired—not just in the we-worship-you-because-of-a-gross-misunderstanding kind of way—because of her own actions was something wholly new that she was entirely unprepared for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. That’s—I’m glad you decided to join.” She managed to peek out from behind Shiral’s mane and give him a small smile, just long enough for him to smile back with an expression that was a cross between baffled and amused.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Have a great week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassandra and Catherine talk in the war room. Dorian uses the "h" word.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After Blackwall left her to her surprise and embarrassment, and after she’d finished making Shiral the most pampered mount of the Inquisition for the day, Catherine made her way towards the main keep again, planning to get a head start on reports before meeting her advisors. She also wanted to make sure there wasn’t any evidence remaining of the failed attempt on Josephine’s life before the Ambassador returned to her office. </p>
<p>She was glad to see it was all cleared away, but found she wasn’t alone when she entered the war room.</p>
<p>“Is there something you need?” Cassandra was hunched over the map of Thedas and didn’t even look up at the sound of the heavy doors behind her.</p>
<p>“I’m trying to imagine what it will look like when we’re done.” Catherine looked down at the map too, clamping down on the fleeting regret that she wouldn’t get to see it. “All of this once belonged to the Tevinter Imperium. Andraste changed that, as did the Blights. As for what will come next...”</p>
<p>Cassandra stepped back from the map and turned to Catherine with a sigh. “I cannot guess the Maker’s plan.”</p>
<p>“How would you make it look?” Catherine gestured to the map and Cassandra looked back down at it. </p>
<p>“I want a world where people trust the Chantry and that trust is respected. I want to respect tradition but not fear change. I want to right past wrongs but not avenge them. I have no idea if my wanting these things makes any of them right.”</p>
<p>Catherine gave a small smile at Cassandra’s glance but her eyes were drawn back to the map, as if looking at it again could somehow show her what would happen. Catherine just wanted to stop people from suffering. That, of course, was probably too tall of an order even for the Inquisition, but she hoped at least that by the time the Inquisition put down its sword again, there would be less suffering in the world than when it had been remade.</p>
<p>From the corner of her eye, she saw Cassandra walk towards the window, looking out over the courtyard.</p>
<p>“Tell me, what guides you?”</p>
<p>“Guides me?”</p>
<p>“You make decisions that shake the world, yet always seem so assured. I wish I had your confidence. What guides your choices?”</p>
<p>Catherine hummed thoughtfully as she joined the seeker by the window and looked out towards all the people who had flocked towards the Inquisition banner. Some of them came because of the hope and faith the Inquisition provided. Some came because of the opportunity. And some came because they had nowhere else to go.</p>
<p>“I just... want to help as many people as I can.” <em> With whatever time I have left</em>.</p>
<p>Cassandra looked back at her as she mulled over the answer. “Think of it, like Andraste long ago, once again the fate of Thedas will be determined by a woman. It makes me proud to call you a friend.”</p>
<p>Catherine’s head snapped over to look at Cassandra. Then, embarrassed at the sudden stinging in her eyes, she looked back out the window, biting down hard on her lip. </p>
<p>Maker, being told that Blackwall had admired her was enough of a shock, but for Cassandra, the righteous woman with unwavering faith and conviction, to call her a friend was almost too much of a shock. She knew, of course, that since she’d been let out of the shackles at Haven she and Cassandra had gotten along quite well, even more so after discovering their mutual love of romance books. Still, the most Catherine hoped for was to not be seen as a threat. But being called a friend?</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Catherine managed, meeting Cassandra’s eyes again. “That means... Thank you.”</p>
<p>Cassandra smiled and gave a nod, turning back to the window, content to be left to their mutual thoughts in silence.</p>
<p>oOo</p>
<p>In the afternoon, Catherine took a break from her work to wander up to Dorian’s Spot, hoping to find him there. After the rush of work involved with ensuring the Ambassador’s safety, Catherine had nearly forgotten the tense situation between Bull and Dorian in Val Royeaux.</p>
<p>“To what do I owe the pleasure today? Any of my countrymen in a particular need of killing?”</p>
<p>Catherine flopped down into her spot, tilting her head as she studied her friend. He seemed tired, though perhaps the kohl that lined his eyes was just a little smudged.</p>
<p>“Nothing like that. Just wondering how you are. You and Bull seemed off on our way back.”</p>
<p>“Ah. That. Well, the lummox seems to have gotten it in his head that I need his help in my personal matters.”</p>
<p>That had Catherine sitting up properly. “Help? Is there something wrong? Is there anything I can do?”</p>
<p>Dorian groaned and grumbled to himself. “I should have known better than to use the ‘h’ word.” He set down his book, turning towards Catherine properly with a frown. “No, it’s nothing I need help from you or Bull or anyone else for that matter. It’s something I prefer to take care of on my own.”</p>
<p>Catherine frowned and tried not to feel hurt. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind, then.”</p>
<p>He sighed and she watched the prickly attitude drain out of him. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s nothing worth you worrying over. Just something I need to do. Bull and I will be fine too, I’m certain.”</p>
<p>She smiled, then, relieved. “My offer stands, of course. But good. It’s been good seeing you happy with him. I’m glad I don’t need to throw him into a demon pit.”</p>
<p>Dorian laughed at that. “Is that what you told him? I wondered why he seemed to be suddenly afraid of you for a while.”</p>
<p>Catherine gave him a wicked grin. “I care about him too, but just had to make sure he knew where my allegiances lie.”</p>
<p>“Don’t let the Revered Mother hear you say that. She’ll start running around burning mages at the stake for using blood magic to control you.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you always complaining about the cold? Maybe my pyre will warm your frozen toes.”</p>
<p>Dorian laughed again. “That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” He looked down at her, feeling better than he had since they left Val Royeaux, but it was hard to miss how tired she looked. “Seems like the cold isn’t the only thing bothering you, though. Something on your mind?”</p>
<p>Catherine’s smile fell with a sigh. “The House of Repose made an attempt on Josephine last night.” Her voice was quiet, barely audible over the echoing caws of the rookery above and Dorian immediately felt like an ass for having made her worry about him over some necklace.</p>
<p>“Is she alright?”</p>
<p>Catherine nodded. “Leliana’s agents got to the attacker first. Josephine is unharmed.”</p>
<p>“Well, how about we go kill them back? We’re good at that.”</p>
<p>She shook her head and Dorian frowned. “She doesn’t want anyone else to be hurt. It’s all to do with some ancient feud between her family and another and she has a plan to use some political maneuvering to deal with the contract.”</p>
<p>“Almost makes me homesick,” he sighed and Catherine gave a tired huff.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're in the US and can vote, please do. Lives literally depend on it. </p>
<p>For those of you who can't vote or have already voted: Deep breaths. Take care of yourselves. </p>
<p>And no matter what comes of this election, remember: you matter. No matter what anyone else says, no matter what happens, <i>You Matter<i>.</i></i></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen reads poetry</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m sorry I had to leave so quickly, it’s just, there was an emergency, and I—”</p><p>Catherine felt his lips press against her knuckles again as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “There’s no need to apologize, my lady. Are you alright?”</p><p>She sighed, deflating as the nerves left her. She’d only realized just as she put on the silk that she’d been unable to give her visitor an explanation as to why she’d run off so quickly and couldn’t help feeling guilty over it. “I’m… tired but otherwise fine. I just worry for the people I care about.”</p><p>He gave her hand another squeeze before standing and pulling her up with him, leading her toward her bed. “Then let’s rest. How can I help?”</p><p>By the time Cullen saw Catherine over the war table that evening, she’d already had dark circles under her eyes. He didn’t need Leliana’s agents to tell him that she hadn’t managed to get any sleep after the attempt on Josephine’s life. He hoped he could at least help her sleep this night.</p><p>Catherine hummed in thought as she crawled into her bed. Still, instead of laying down, she sat up against the headboard and invited him in next to her with a pat to the empty space, hoping he would join her. She smiled when she felt him right next to her and gladly leaned her head against his shoulder, letting out a comfortable sigh. “Would you read something?” She paused, remembering her embarrassment from the last time he read to her and pulled away from him for a moment. “Or just talk. Either is fine. I just want to hear you.”</p><p>He smiled, feeling his face heat at the thought of reading to her again when he’d been so affected last time, but pulled her back towards him. “Which do you prefer tonight?”</p><p>She felt her cheeks flame but gladly rested against him again. Then she remembered the book she’d been reading the night before when she’d still been trying to fall asleep after all the chaos.</p><p>“There’s a book of poems on my nightstand?” It was still romantic, but certainly not as... <em> affecting </em>as the chapter from Varric last time. Maybe she’d be able to get through it without embarrassing herself.</p><p>Cullen smiled and shifted away just enough to grab the book before curling close to her again. “Where should I start?”</p><p>“Anywhere.” She’d already memorized most of the poems collected in the book. She’d had a copy that she read often in the Circle, and shortly after arriving at Skyhold, she’d found a merchant in Redcliffe selling a copy. She’d bought it without a second thought.</p><p>“And when thou art weary, I’ll find thee a bed, of mosses, and flowers, to pillow thy head; There, beauteous Emma, I’ll sit at thy feet, while my story of love I enraptur’d repeat.” Catherine sighed and moved closer to her visitor, placing her hands on his arm, but he pulled it away only to rest it across her shoulders and pull her closer. Shyly, she wrapped her arms around his waist instead and rested her head against the top of his chest.</p><p>“So fondly, I’ll breathe, and so softly I’ll sigh, thou wilt think that some amorous zephyr is nigh; Ah! No—as I breathe it, I press thy fair knee, and then, thou wilt know that the sigh comes from me.” Cullen continued more quietly, resting his chin on her head and wishing with all he had for the night to continue forever. “Then why, lovely girl, should we lose all these blisses? That mortal’s a fool who such happiness misses; so smile acquiescence, and give me thy hand, with love-looking eyes, and with voice sweetly bland.”</p><p>With a bitten lip, Catherine moved just a little closer and let her thumb trail in a small arc over his side. She felt him shiver, but he kept reading, so she didn’t stop either, delighted to be able to be so close to him. After a day filled with so many surprises—perhaps the biggest surprise of all being that many of the surprises were <em> good </em>—she was just relieved to finally be able to spend time with him in peace, and with the comfort of his gentle warmth surrounding her. It was a kind of pleasure she never really knew, being able to just be enveloped in someone else’s heat. When she was a child, she was sure she’d received some measure of affection from her family, but in the years since, those memories had faded and the warmth had drained.</p><p>As much as Dorian teased her for it, the books she read and the tenderness she drew from them vicariously was all she’d been able to have for years, beyond the occasional pat on the shoulder from the Senior Enchanter for a spell well-cast. Now, with the opportunity to soak up the warmth of a person who seemed to at least enjoy her company and not mind her closeness, she constantly warred with herself over the fear of doing too much and driving him away and the desire to wrap herself around him like ivy embracing a tree.</p><p>“If thou must love me, let it be for nought except for love’s sake only,” Cullen continued with the next poem even as the hair on the back of his neck stood in the most pleasant way as she casually ran her thumb over his side. </p><p>Of all the surprises of being her nameless companion—the largest of all being that she allowed it in the first place—he was most pleased by how affectionate she was willing to be with him. He hadn’t thought of her as distant before, but hesitant. While he’d seen her willingly accept a hand on a shoulder and give one in return, until he started to visit her, he’d never witnessed her be the one to seek out closeness or initiate it herself. He hoped he would be on the receiving end of it more.</p><p>His family had always been affectionate before he’d become a Templar. They still tried to be, despite the distance Cullen had created. For a time with the Templars, he’d had friends he had traded jibes with. And there was, of course, the girl at the Kinloch Hold he’d loved, in the way one young, naïve person could love another, until they both had been forced to become different people. And now, after years without the warmth of another at his side, suddenly having it was both overwhelming and not nearly enough.</p><p>He pulled her closer and mimicked her small motion and felt her shoulders rise in surprise before she pressed in closer to him.</p><p>“Do not say I love her for her smile... her look... her way of speaking gently, for a trick of thought that falls in well with mine and certes brought a sense of pleasant ease on such a day—for these things in themselves, Beloved, may be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought, may be unwrought so.”</p><p>“Neither love me for thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry—a creature might forget to weep, who more thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby. But love me for love’s sake, that evermore thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity,” Catherine finished with a whisper.</p><p>Cullen’s breath left him for a moment, and he had to gather himself as he looked down at her, pillowed against him. <em> Maker</em>. If there was ever an unquenchable flame, in his heart, it was her. Over the years, his faith in the Maker had wavered, maybe even sometimes broke. But his faith in her, his feelings for her, they only grew and seemed to be able to help burn away the refuse left in him from his past.</p><p>“Catherine,” he murmured, only just realizing how close his face was to hers, and nearly lost his breath again when he watched her release the lip she’d been biting. More than anything, he wanted to soothe it over himself, with his own lips.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>First poem: "To Emma" by John Keats<br/>Second poem: "If thou must love me... (sonnet 14)" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning</p><p>If you're interested, my favorite poem by John Keats is "Bright star, would I were as steadfast as thou art"</p><p>Anyway, hope you enjoyed the fluff and hope everyone gave a collective sigh of relief this weekend. (Though I still won't feel safe until Biden's butt is in the chair in the white house.) Now it's time to focus on the Georgia runoffs. </p><p>Stay safe, stay healthy and take care of yourselves and each other!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The inquisition continues to deal with The House of Repose</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine finished the poem like a prayer. She hoped that maybe she could be that short, shallow love line on his hand. She hoped he would keep spoiling her with his attention and affection. She hoped that maybe, just maybe he might truly care for her. </p><p>Then, despite feeling his breath so, so close, she remembered that she didn’t <em> know</em>.</p><p>She didn’t know if he cared or if he was far too kind and willing to humor her. She didn’t know if she was already pressing her luck by wrapping herself around him. She didn’t know if he also wanted more than gentle affection for its own sake.</p><p>Much as she wanted to stay wrapped up in the cocoon of his warmth and generous attention, she at least needed to be sure of that much, if not his name.</p><p>So she pulled back, enough to keep her head.</p><p>“Serah, I—”</p><p>A quiet whistle sliced the air and she felt a sharp breeze just in front of her nose.</p><p>Cullen went from worry to horror as an arrow impaled itself into the headboard where Catherine’s head had just been.</p><p>“Get down,” Cullen commanded. He felt magic gathering at his side and a moment later a barrier settled over his skin with a faint tingle. He leapt from the bed towards the attacker on the balcony.  His hand automatically went for his sword, belatedly remembering that it wasn’t there. Instead, he dove forward into a roll, avoiding an arrow trained at him this time before leaping up and ramming his shoulder into the man, forcing him against the balcony railing. </p><p>In the moment of the man losing his balance, Cullen wrenched away his bow only to hit him over the head with it hard enough to make it snap. The man grunted but managed to stay on his feet. At least, for a moment, until Cullen leaned back and then gave the man a forceful kick to the chest, forcing him off the balcony, shrieking as he fell to the snow-covered mountain below.</p><p>Cullen took a slow breath then turned around to check on Catherine, finding her hunched over on the bed, blindfold still on, with her fists clenched around the sheets and magic crackling in the air.</p><p>“It’s over, Catherine. They’re gone. Are you alright?” He approached slowly and waited as the electricity drained from the air. </p><p>“Are you—You're okay?”</p><p>He kneeled at the foot of the bed and reached out to have his hand cover hers, feeling it cold and shaking beneath his. “I’m okay. It’s done. He, uh, had quite the fall.”</p><p>“I couldn’t do anything. You were—I was too afraid I’d hit you instead. I couldn’t—” Catherine cut herself off as a tremor from the terror gripped her. She pulled away from his hand and away from the bed and stood, trying to shove the fear back down into the box where she usually managed to keep it.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I have to go. And...” She swallowed, still trying to reorient herself. “You shouldn’t come back. At least not until I’ve dealt with all this. I’ll keep the silk on my door at least until it’s safe. If you... If you don’t come back, I understand. You don’t need to risk your life too.”</p><p>She turned, stumbled but caught herself on the bed and forced herself back up and toward the stairs, taking the ribbon off at the bottom and tying it to the handle, trying not to throw up at the knowledge she’d endangered him for her own selfishness. That <em> he </em>could have—The door shut behind her and the echo of it muffled her sob.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Cullen felt ice in his stomach as he watched her go, and found himself unable to stop her after the terror he’d seen on her face. She’d been worried for him. Not for herself, the target of the assassin, but <em> him</em>. </p><p>He knew she often was more worried for those around her than herself. Maker, it was obvious back at Haven when she woke up to a world on fire and willingly risked her life to try to save it before she even knew what was happening. It was obvious when she’d risked herself to protect those who had flocked to the Inquisition’s banner at Haven.</p><p>It had even been obvious in their first conversation with her blindfold on. She’d talked about facing down a dragon and her first concern had been for Bull.</p><p>Seeing that concern for him, though, hurt just as much as he cherished it.</p><p>He swallowed and forced his legs to move and guide him down the stairs back towards his office, to change and check guard rotations. His gut rolled as the door closed behind him while the strip of red silk effectively locked him out.</p><p>But he had come as a nameless companion to help her, to ease her worries. Now, perhaps, the only way he could help her was to be her commander.</p><p>oOo</p><p>“Commander, there you are.” Leliana’s voice greeted him as he walked back out of his office, still not in armor, but looking more like Commander of the Inquisition forces. “We’re meeting in the war room.”</p><p>He just gave her a nod and followed, finding Josephine and Catherine already there. Both seemed to struggle to smile as they entered and Cullen didn’t even try. It may have been a trick of the light, but the circles under Catherine’s eyes seemed even darker.</p><p>“Clearly, this House of Repose contract needs to be the Inquisition’s immediate priority.” Leliana was firm and Josephine’s shoulders fell a little, the guilt of endangering more lives weighing on her. Catherine still gave the ambassador a smile and a short squeeze to her shoulder as encouragement, but Cullen agreed.</p><p>“There must be a faster way than politics.” He’d been willing to go along with the ambassador’s route as it was her own personal affair and Catherine was supporting her, but now that the danger had expanded, he was less amenable.</p><p>“Unfortunately, since both the Inquisition and the House of Repose have started their moves, the contract is likely too well-guarded to be able to find and destroy. They may not be as large an organization as the Crows, but they are still formidable.”</p><p>“I am so sorry, Inquisitor.” Josephine almost looked like she would cry, but Catherine pulled her into a half-hug with a bright smile.</p><p>“Please, people trying to kill me is just my average Tuesday. The House of Repose will just have to get in line.” With the full force of Catherine’s brilliant smile, Josephine was helpless but to return it and stand a little straighter, her gloom melting away. Catherine then let go and gave her a reassuring nod.</p><p>“I am getting more concerned about them trying to target the rest of you, though. So, what can we do?” Catherine turned back to all three of them with a thoughtful tilt of her head, ready for their recommendations, but Cullen averted his gaze to look down at the map as his heart broke. He’d seen how terrified she was for him. He’d felt her shaking hands. And seeing her grin now, also for their sakes, was almost too much for him to take.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Only just realized how late I was with getting the chapter out today! Sorry about that. Been a little busy IRL. </p><p>Anyway, the slow burn continues. I promise everything will be okay because I want these two goobers to be happy and in love. As does the rest of Skyhold. There may be some meddling.</p><p>Hope you have a wonderful week and please take care of yourselves and each other. Stay safe and healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Chapter 35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bull and Leliana meddle.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Qunlat translations are at the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, Red.” Leliana briefly glanced up from her table, and Bull gave a thoughtful hum as he dropped the reports he had from his own agents that he’d been able to save before they got burned. “Your people seem busy today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ebasaam.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull grunted. “Your accent is still bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leliana didn’t look up but a smile briefly pulled at her lips. “Something you’re looking for, Bull?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just seeing if me or my boys can help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bas-katari ash-adim Asaaranda.” Her voice was quiet, knowing that despite the difficulty of the language, there was still the chance that others nearby would understand even if her accent was atrocious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull’s expression didn’t change, but his mind spun. Asaaranda was what Leliana had taken to calling the Inquisitor, since there wasn’t much of a translation for the role into qunlat. Thunderstorm. Bit of a mouthful for a nickname in Bull’s opinion, but still pretty good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Same as Josephine’s, huh?” Leliana nodded. “You’re gonna need someone shadowing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve already lent Josephine as many I could spare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about Cullen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. "Soldiers aren’t suited for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I meant the commander himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s got enough on his plate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull raised a brow. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I thought they’ve been, uh, spending time together lately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leliana looked up from her reports finally and a small smile spread across her face. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you know.” He gave a shrug and she chuckled. “Well, that might work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If not, Dorian and I’ll do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raised a brow. “And ruin your fun?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bull snorted. “We’ll get her earplugs.” Leliana signed but was smiling as she looked back down at her reports and Bull left, keeping an eye out for new faces as he went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Commander, a word?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Josephine and Catherine paused at the door, looking back to see if Leliana needed either of them, too, but she just smiled and waved them on, so they parted, leaving Cullen and Leliana alone in the war room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I received an interesting report from one of my agents this morning,” she started, voice teasing as she waited for the footsteps in the hall to fully retreat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen grimaced. He didn’t know what was coming, but he already hated it. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She still paused, listening until she heard the echo of the door between the hall and Josephine’s office before her expression turned more serious, ignoring Cullen’s obvious discomfort. “She still needs you with her. I don’t have any more agents that I trust enough to spare.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s jaw clenched. He agreed, of course. No matter how capable she was, leaving her alone with the immediate threat of assassins was too great a risk, but with what Catherine had said, he wasn’t sure he could be the one to do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She asked me not to come back. I can’t just show up anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leliana, of course, already knew about the silk on the Inquisitor’s door handle, but that didn’t change the fact that Catherine needed someone else nearby just in case. And the fact that Cullen had been the safest one to be near her was the reason Leliana had allowed him into Catherine’s room at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then perhaps you could see her as yourself?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen balked. Much as he wanted her for himself, as himself, he was fairly certain that revealing himself to her at this point, when she already had enough concerns, was not the best time or manner to do so. “No, that would—what about Dorian? Or maybe—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re her friend too, are you not? Even without blindfolds?” Cullen paused and met her eyes again. “I’m sure if you asked, she’d keep herself awake for a month even if all you wanted was a game of chess. She’d let you protect her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the window behind her as he remembered her anxiety the night before, not being able to do anything to protect him, despite the assassin being after her, all because of the blindfold. If not for it, she would have been able to see who to fight and who to protect. She would have seen who had prevailed the fight before he even spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps she needed her commander, but maybe she could use him too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll try,” he sighed, earning a smile from Leliana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just remember which accent to use.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groaned. He knew he was going to hate what she had to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At dusk, several hours before he normally left his office for the night, Cullen made his way to Catherine’s room, reports and a chess board tucked under his arm. While Leliana didn’t think he needed an excuse, he wanted to have one, just in case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, the moment after he knocked, he heard hurried footsteps and then the door swung open to a concerned Catherine, whose eyes only grew with worry when she realized who had knocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay! No one is hurt,” Cullen assured quickly, immediately feeling awful for having scared her. Catherine sagged with relief as she stood aside to allow Cullen inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they were both inside and in her main room, she finally thought to ask why he was there, if not to let her know about another attack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leliana suggested that we stick together, until this assassin situation has been dealt with. Not that we don’t think you can keep yourself safe, but extra precautions couldn’t hurt.” Catherine nodded slowly, considering, and then Culled lifted the box with a chess board and pieces. “And I hoped you might be interested in a game?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, Catherine gave a short laugh and nodded towards the table by her couch. “By all means, prepare the board.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen returned her smile, relieved that she wasn’t eager to throw him back out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ebasaam = We all are<br/>Bas-katari ash-adim Asaaranda = Non qunari assassins are searching for Asaaranda (aka Catherine)</p>
<p>You have no idea how long this half-qunlat conversation took so that it could be reasonably correctly conjugated. I am proud of myself. Also, more qunlat, please, Bioware. Also, purposefully wrote this conversation to seem to have a different meaning if you don't know qunlat, hopefully it worked. </p>
<p>For those of us in the US, please stay safe this week. If you're going to have a Thanksgiving gathering, please wear a mask, do it outside if you can and socially distance. Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Chapter 36</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cullen has a nightmare</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It seems luck has favored you tonight.” Catherine looked at him with a tired smile that he couldn’t help return. Of the several games played, he’d won several more than he’d lost, which was as much a boost to his ego as her sharing her time with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So it has.” Then he realized he was smiling dumbly back at her for probably several moments too long and he turned away with a cough. “Do you mind if I pour myself some water? Would you like any?” He stood and moved towards the pitcher on her desk across the room, grateful for the space to cool his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave an affirmative sound behind him, but he took his time, taking a couple sips and refilling the cup to delay turning back around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every night he had spent with her as a nameless companion, he’d cherished. He always enjoyed her company, of course, but spending nights with her as an invisible support had allowed him to see a different side of her. She allowed herself to be more vulnerable and more relaxed than he’d been privy to as her friend or her commander. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Given all the time he spent with her through the day, in the war room and during chess and spars and in countless other ways, he thought that he would be able to spend time with her in her room without it leaving him off-kilter. Instead, he found himself even more affected than he had been when she wore her blindfold. Seeing her relaxed as she was now with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>and not his alter ego was a gift. And while he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t imagining it, he kept thinking her smile was the same affectionate one she wore when she couldn’t see that he was the recipient.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a steadying breath, he turned back towards her, only to find her eyes closed and lips slightly parted as she leaned heavily on her hand. Her chest rose and fell steadily, and he bit his cheek to suppress a helpless laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quietly, he put the cups back down and went around the room, blowing out all the candles. He folded back her bedding and then regretfully shook her shoulder and whispered her name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” she managed a sleepy sound, not opening her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be more comfortable in bed, Catherine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.” She agreed, but didn’t move, and Cullen tried as gently as he could to pull her from her seat and help her onto her bed where she flopped down unceremoniously, humming in relief as she buried her face into her pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen covered his mouth to muffle another laugh as he pulled her covers up over her again. He stared for just a moment longer before turning to make himself comfortable on her sofa, making sure his sword was still within easy reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For several days after, Cullen and Catherine fell into a new habit of spending their evenings and nights together in Catherine’s quarters after their meeting in the war room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite her nagging worry that she was endangering Cullen by him being there with her, she reminded herself that he could just as easily be a target and it was better to not leave him alone, either. And, selfishly, she enjoyed spending more time with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She used to only get occasional glimpses of the man who bore the title of Commander, the one who was eager and awkward in almost equal measure, but having so much time with him now meant that she got to see that more human side of him much more often. She’d come to notice new, little things about him, too, like the fact that he always looked away when he was trying not to smile or that he would sometimes snort when he gave a surprised laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That particular discovery came after telling a story of encountering a particularly large spider in Crestwood, and the sound made her want to keep finding things to make him laugh about. It made him sound younger, like the man she thought he could have been had it not been for the Circle. And while she knew she couldn’t free him of it, just like she knew she’d never be free of its effect on her either, she hoped she could do something to at least help relieve him of the burden of his past for a few moments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, Cullen was not only an incredible asset to the Inquisition and to her as an advisor, but he’d become a dear friend to her. His letters helped her keep her wits while in the field and games of chess had always served as a wonderful distraction while at Skyhold—not to mention the fact that the occasional sword lessons with him were also equal parts fun and helpful. So Catherine couldn’t help hoping she could do something to return the favor, even if it was just making him laugh a little more often.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So one night, when she woke to the sound of him struggling, she jolted up and had magic already tingling at her fingertips as she looked for a threat, but all she found was Cullen alone on the couch with his face twisted in anger and pain. “Cullen,” she called quietly, hoping not to startle him, but when his expression didn’t change, she pulled herself out of bed and gently shook his shoulder only to pull it back quickly when he jolted up with a gasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took in his surroundings and then a pained expression crossed his face when his eyes landed on her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sorry,” she replied with a frown. Given his reaction, she guessed that his nightmares were at least as frequent as hers.  She didn’t want him to have to suffer it alone. “What can I do? Does anything help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked away and gave a short shake of his head, though she wasn’t quite sure if that was an answer or trying to shake off what remained of his nightmare. “I usually go for a walk. It helps clear my head.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine stood, and offered out her hand. “Shall we go, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen looked up at her, solid and real and radiating compassion in a way that was so different from his nightmare that it almost hurt. But even in the dark, he could see how tired her eyes looked and he didn’t want to keep her up just for him, no matter how much he wanted to take her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’ll be alright. You need your rest. I don’t want to keep you up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine sighed and reached down and grabbed Cullen’s hand herself. “Then come to bed. I’m not going to be able to sleep if I know you’re awake over here.” She tugged him towards her bed and he helplessly followed even as a burn slowly rose in his cheeks. Still, he let her pull him into the bed and throw the covers over them both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave a contented hum and turned towards him—both much too close and not nearly close enough—and gave him a sleepy look. “Is it better if I’m closer? Or do you need more room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen swallowed, still too affected by his nightmare to be able to properly process her proximity, let alone give a response that wouldn’t leave him embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But where he hesitated, she acted and he found one of his hands captured by both of hers in a gentle grip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen nodded quietly, watching her eyelids droop as she gave him a small smile. “Goodnight, Cullen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight,” he managed as her eyes closed. He watched her fall asleep, felt her hands go lax around his, but he still didn’t pull away. Eventually, he felt his own eyes grow heavy, and in the comfort of her presence, he was assured enough that his nightmares wouldn’t prevent him from getting some much-needed sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fluff! I hope everyone enjoys the adorableness of these two. Take care of yourselves and each other!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Chapter 37</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine helps her Commander with paperwork</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As day turned to dusk, Catherine decided to head towards her commander’s office. Instead of leaving the war room together that afternoon, they decided to split up for a few hours to take care of some work they both needed to do, assured that they were both safe enough in the light of day and surrounded by people they knew and trusted. They had agreed to meet back up in her room that evening. However, Dorian had shooed her away sooner than she’d expected, leaving her wondering if maybe he and Bull had their own plans for the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made her way towards Cullen’s tower, and found herself smiling at the thought of the two men making up. She hoped all was well between them again. Dorian seemed less eager to snap at someone, so she thought something must have changed but wasn’t sure if she was allowed to pry just yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Catherine? Oh, Maker, is it already that late?” Cullen stood, turning towards the small window behind his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, sorry. I got finished early and thought I’d meet you here.” Cullen slouched just a bit in relief as he turned back towards her. “Are you still busy? Can I help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just reading through some requisition requests before passing them off to the quartermaster,” he explained, gesturing to a large stack of papers and sitting back down as she approached. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me half.” He raised a brow and was about to assure her it wasn’t necessary, but she held out her hand. “I promise I won’t approve any requests for the Chargers to use the trebuchets to make Krem’s stuffed nugs fly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen huffed a laugh and handed over some of the requests. Then, before he could get up and offer her a seat, she moved and sat on the floor beside him, resting her head against the arm of his chair. “You don’t have to sit down there,” he rushed to say. “I can get another—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too late! I’m already comfortable.” She tilted her head back to grin up at him for a moment before she turned back to the reports. “I sit like this with Dorian too. Though I think he likes it because it bothers Josephine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen laughed again at that, but he still felt like he should trade her spots. “If you change your mind...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waived her hand in the air, dismissing the rest of his offer as she reassured him again that it was fine. Then she got to work and eventually he turned back to his own stack, finding himself smiling as he read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen knew that Catherine was cautious with people. She never pushed beyond any boundary someone set, no matter how innocuous. She only stopped addressing him by his title when he did the same to her. She only wrote friendly letters once he did the same. She only asked “him" for any form of comfort after he had already offered it as her nameless companion. So seeing her make herself comfortable in his office was both new and satisfying in ways he didn’t want to unpack while she was seated so close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, he noticed her head drooping and he quietly leaned forward enough to be able to see her struggling to keep her eyes open. It wasn’t a surprise—he knew her sleeping schedule better than anyone, after all—but he still found himself suppressing a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Catherine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite him trying to keep his voice quiet, she snapped up and turned towards him, eyes wide even as she tried to blink away her fatigue. He couldn’t fight the smile anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My bed is up there, if you’re tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders slouched a little, but nodded and handed over the neat stacks she’d made of approved, rejected, and unread requests. Then he watched her climb the ladder and turned back to the still-unread requests just as he heard a now-familiar ‘thwump’ of her collapsing into bed. The fact that it was a familiar sound now also made him smile at the papers in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As her secret visitor, he had always left shortly after she fell asleep so that he could go to sleep too, but now that he was spending his nights with her, he realized how deeply she slept. Even the one night she pulled him into her bed, despite the distance she’d allowed him, he still woke to her wrapped around him so tightly that he wasn’t sure he would be able to move away without prying her off. But, somehow, she didn’t wake either as he extricated himself nor as he rose from the bed to return to the work that he had brought with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite knowing it likely wouldn’t disturb her sleep, he still got up as quietly as he could and doused all the candles except the ones he most needed at his desk for reading the remaining requests. Then he sat back down and desperately tried to focus on his work and not the woman just above him, sleeping in his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it wasn’t the first time she’d slept in his bed. That honor went to the time Bull had shown up with an obviously very drunk Catherine who had declared her love for him, as well as the rest of the Inquisition. At the time, he’d warred between disappointment and relief that she felt anything towards him at all. Still, the sound of her telling him she loved him, that had haunted his thoughts for days after, even while she was in Val Royeaux. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered if she remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered how much she meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered what would have happened if she had heard him respond in kind.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Dragon 4ge Day!!! </p><p>For this special day, you get an extra chapter. ❤</p><p>One of my biggest struggles with writing this story has been the knowledge of who voices the character I'm writing, but the actor is not the character (no matter how much he tries to co-opt it). Cullen is a man who has had shortcomings and has grown enough to acknowledge them and try to be a better person. He cares about people and would never manipulate others for his own gains or ego. And, of course, he's not a TERF.</p><p>Much love on this day and hope everyone has been able to enjoy the incredible variety of creativity and kindness that the people of this fandom have decided to share.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Chapter 38</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine drools in her sleep</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catherine wasn’t sure what made her stir from her sleep, but when she blearily opened her eyes, it was still dark and it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust enough to realize that she wasn’t in her bed, in her room. She sat up quickly and called on har mana as she looked around, not casting yet, but ready just in case—then she noticed the giant hole in the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The anxiety and mana bled from her all at once and she relaxed back into the bed until she heard a soft snore from below. She sat, confused, for another moment until she looked around and realized she was alone in the bed. Another snore sounded and she tossed off the covers and crept to the edge of the loft as quietly as she could manage. At the desk, she found Cullen, head leaning on one hand and still in full armor with a page in his free hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly covered her mouth to stifle a laugh and slid down the ladder. Not for the first time, she wished she was as quiet and nimble as her rogue friends. Sera would be able to sneak in and strip the man down to his underwear without disturbing him—not that Catherine wanted to go that—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hoped she would at least be able to manage to get the most uncomfortable-looking pieces of his armor off without disturbing him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That, of course, proved futile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment she reached around to try to unstrap his first brace, Cullen startled, hand automatically wrenching away from her and grabbing for his sword as she jumped back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry!” Catherine watched as Cullen blinked at her, fright and confusion bleeding into regret. He quickly resheathed his sword and apologized, but Catherine just gave him an embarrassed smile. “I shouldn’t have surprised you. I knew it was foolish. I’m sorry. You just looked so content and you’ve been so tired, and—Anyway, let’s just get this armor off you. You need sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was still embarrassed at his reaction and warmed by her consideration—and too selfish to push her away when she reached for him again—so he didn’t pull away when she started tugging at the straps of his armor. He knew he should probably help—it was his armor, after all—but she was still smiling as she worked and he found himself unable to do anything but stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen was unaccustomed to someone else trying to take care of him. He both hated that it was her—Maker knew she was already doing more than enough—and had a bone-deep craving for it. This wasn’t like his addiction, though. Where Lyrium burned through him, left him feeling strong but hollowed out, Catherine warmed him. She made him feel like his own strength was enough, even if he always wanted to be stronger for her. She left him feeling full to bursting, just knowing that she enjoyed spending time with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, it is soft,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled away his cloak, and Cullen couldn’t help a laugh, remembering what she’d said while drunk the last time she had spent the night in his quarters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She draped it on his armor stand where she’d put away the rest of his things—and that warmed him, too, knowing she was taking care with his armor where he knew she always just let hers stay wherever it landed—and then patted his shoulder. “Come on. It’s still dark. Let’s sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She headed up the ladder towards his bed again and he was helpless to follow, even as he felt his cheeks warm. He hoped she wouldn’t notice in the dark, but then as soon as he sat down on the bed, she kneeled beside him and started unstrapping even his boots, too, and much as he wanted to stare, he looked away. Maker, she had no idea what she could do to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She set his boots beside the bed, next to her own, and then tossed him another smile before climbing into the bed herself, and he just stared for a moment, feeling his heart clawing at his throat at the sight. What he wouldn’t give to see her like that every day, comfortable in his bed with her back to him, trusting and— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand reached behind her to tug at his shirt. “Sleep, Cullen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen shook his head of his thoughts and followed her order, laying down with his back towards her, too, and listened as her breath evened out to sleep again. Then he closed his eyes, falling into the fade beside her with his last thoughts of how lucky he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, when the first rays of sun broke through the hole in his ceiling, he opened his eyes and started to stir, only to find that he couldn’t. He looked down and found himself beneath Catherine. Her mouth was open, nearly snoring, and hair half-covered her face. Her arms were wrapped around him with surprising strength, given how relaxed she seemed to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen bit his cheek to stifle a laugh and wrapped his arms around her back, savoring the moment and loving her more every second. The Inquisition could wait a few more hours.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This arc of fluff is nearly at an end. Hope you've enjoyed it so far!</p>
<p>I finally finished writing the Winter Palace arc (it's still a good 10 or so chapters away) but there will be a special surprise for everyone once we get there!</p>
<p>Hope you have a great week. Stay safe and healthy. Take care of yourselves and each other!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Chapter 39</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The House Of Repose backs down.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine moved her queen and tried to focus on the match, though she was distracted by the mix of relief and disappointment she felt.</p><p>In the morning, she and Josephine would be riding out for Val Royeaux again to make sure everything with the DuParaquets and House of Repose was dealt with. She was relieved, of course, since it meant her ambassador and everyone around her would again be safe from assassins—these ones, at least. </p><p>But as Cullen claimed her bishop, she still felt a lingering disappointment. She enjoyed her time with Cullen and was not eager for it to end. She felt—hoped—that they had become a little closer over the last few weeks, spending most of their time together. She’d seen him out of his armor, physical and metaphorical, and had gained stories of his childhood and even stories from when he had first joined the Inquisition, before she fell out of the Fade the first time. </p><p>“Even if the circumstances haven’t been ideal, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you like this.” </p><p>Catherine’s head snapped up, feeling a blush burning her cheeks as Cullen gave her a small smile. She ducked her head as she moved her remaining knight, half-wondering if he knew some kind of mind-reading magic. “So have I.” She glanced up only to see him claim her queen and frowned. “We should spend more time together.” She blinked down at the board and then looked up at him in slight panic. “Not that we have to, of course. I know you’re busy and I’m away from Skyhold a lot, but just… when we both have some time, maybe you could give me another sword lesson or we could just talk or—anything, really”</p><p>“I would like that.”</p><p>Catherine flushed and looked back down at the board and moved the first piece her hand touched, just to have a reason to look away. “Me, too.”</p><p>“You said that.”</p><p>She wished she could hide or steal Dorian’s magic briefly to rewind a few seconds to make herself not sound like an idiot, but Cullen couldn’t help smiling and feeling some mix of wonder and smugness.</p><p>She wanted to keep spending time with <em> him </em>. Not just the fantasy he had spent months trying to create for her to try to help her relax. </p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Cullen, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Everything with the House of Repose and the DuParaquets has been worked out, thank the Maker. You won’t have to worry about me drooling on you in my sleep again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sorry again for that. Maker.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Anyway, Josephine has invited me to vacation in Antiva at her family’s residence once all of this is done. I’ve never been. It’s always sounded like a beautiful place. I hope everyone will take a vacation once this is done. You’ve all earned it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh, she is also going to be sending out inquiries about finding a trainer for me to learn some knight enchantment skills. So if you have time once we return, I would appreciate a few more sword lessons. I would rather not embarrass myself in front of a trainer.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Catherine,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I pulled my sword on you a few times, so I think I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m glad to hear the situation has been dealt with. I look forward to spending time with you without having to worry about another assassination attempt.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I have a feeling Dorian would disagree about the beauty of Antiva, though if that is due to experience or bias, I don’t know. I’ve never been either. Though I wouldn’t be eager to enter Crow territory any time soon. I wonder if the work we have will ever truly be over. Corypheus is a threat that we can and will eliminate, but after, there will still be the work of returning peace to Thedas and repairing the damage that was done. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Still, a vacation would be well-deserved. For you most of all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I would be glad to give you more lessons once you return. I hope that training with an iron sword will still be applicable to a magic weapon.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There may no longer be assassins after you, but please be careful on your way back anyway.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cullen </em>
</p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Cullen, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If I were to hold a grudge every time someone pulled a weapon on me, then Cassandra and I would not be friends.  </em>
</p><p><em> I’m not sure there is anywhere that Dorian </em> <em> does </em> <em> like. At least not that he would admit. I think he’s grown fond of the south, no matter how much he complains about the cold. Anyway, isn’t everywhere Crow territory? If they take contracts in Ferelden against Grey Wardens, I imagine I’m no safer from them in the Frostbacks than I would be in Antiva. It would be quite the irony for me to survive all this only to be taken down by a Crow after the fact.  </em></p><p>
  <em> I’m sure handling a magic sword is little different from wielding an iron one, other than the weight. Though I wonder if I could increase the spirit sword’s weight by incorporating a spell like Crushing Prison? They’re both spirit magic, so it wouldn’t be incompatible. I may have to discuss it with Vivienne once I’m back. Regardless, it will at least help me next time I have a sharp sword pointed at me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And it will give me a break from dance lessons. I haven’t danced in years. I hope I don’t trip on the dress of someone important. Or step on anyone’s foot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p>oOo</p><p>
  <em> Catherine, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you aren’t one to hold grudges given your leniency towards Alexius.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Though the Crows will take contracts anywhere, I would not be eager to cross their paths for a while. I would rather be able to enjoy spending time with you without having to worry about assassins for at least a little while.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know little of magical theory, so I don’t know how the magic would mix, but if you do experiment, please be careful. I have seen enough acolytes lose their fingers to accidental explosions, and having a blade in your hand can be dangerous enough.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Josephine has been trying to have me take dance lessons as well. So far I have managed to avoid them. I continue to try to assure her that I would be more of a risk to the Inquisition’s mission on the dance floor than a rejection would be. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cullen </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry I'm late today with the chapter! Had my first day at a new job :)</p><p>Hope you have a great week! Stay safe and healthy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Chapter 40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine's room feels empty</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catherine stared at the silk tied to her door handle. Since the intruder, it had remained tied there, and even though the situation with the House of Repose had been dealt with, Catherine wondered if she should still leave it. They weren’t the only ones after her life, after all. If the Venatori or anyone else decided to send more assassins after her, her visitor would still be in danger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even if she removed it, she had no idea if he would even show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked inside her room, leaving the silk where it was as she got ready for bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her room felt strangely empty without Cullen. After spending time around him nearly all day and night, it felt wrong to leave the war room without him at her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, as if doing so would also shake off the vague loneliness she felt at the silence. Besides, it wasn’t just Cullen’s absence that left the room feeling empty. She had grown up with the pattering feet of her brothers and the clacking of the hard-soled shoes of servants and guards at her parents home. She had lived in the circle where she fell asleep to the sounds of dozens of other sleeping children and the heavy clanking of Templar armor passing in the halls. Even Haven was filled with the sounds of life no matter the hour, despite having her own building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But her quarters at Skyhold reminded her of the stories she read as a child, where a single princess was locked away from the world in a tower without any connection to the world outside. When she was a child, before the circle, she thought it seemed lonely and like escaping would be a great adventure. Of all the things she’d believed about the world as a child, the loneliness seemed to be one thing she’d gotten right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having friends at Skyhold had made a difference, made her just as glad to approach the gates as she was to leave them. But she still preferred her nights out in the field, seeing parts of Thedas she never thought she would with friends at her side. And after months of her tower room being less lonely, with the company of either her mystery visitor or Cullen, the sudden quiet was almost overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she stared up at the canopy of her bed, she warred with herself, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Finally, she got up from the bed and went back to her door, taking a breath before removing the silk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew it was past the time he usually came and likely wouldn’t come that night, but at least he would know that he was welcome, if he had any interest in returning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen was halfway back down the tower stairs when he heard the echo of her door. He’d seen the silk on it and, knowing that she was safe, wondered if it was just a sign that she was tired and needed rest, or maybe she was eager for the chance to spend some time alone, or if she was finally tired of the charade of a secret visitor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, at the echo of her door opening and then closing again, he rushed back up, heart pounding. Perhaps the danger hadn’t passed. Or perhaps—he found the door cleared of her silk, an offer that he was far too weak to pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine had barely sat on her bed when she heard the knock at her door. For a moment, she thought she imagined it, but then a muffled “My lady?” came from the other side and she quickly tied the silk over her eyes and choked out an answer for him to enter. Then, as if nothing had changed, as if he had never been afraid or in danger, as if she had never put him at risk, she heard him kneel and he kissed her knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you, my lady.” Catherine swallowed and worried at her lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s selfish of me to want you here. I shouldn’t. It’s putting you at risk, too. I don’t want to—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can handle myself, my lady. I don’t regret being here. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Then there was a pause and he added more quietly, “Will you let me stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out a slow breath and then felt his knuckles against her jaw and she couldn’t help but lean into the touch. Maker, how she had missed it and she was loath to let it go again. “Enough people are dying at my order already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb moved to trace the scar on her cheek and he wondered if she would ever tell him how she got it. He wondered if he would ever have the opportunity to tell her about his own. He wanted to argue that more lives would have been lost without her orders, her leadership, but he knew as well as anyone that wouldn’t help. It didn’t negate the lives lost and he knew how heavily each and every one of them weighed on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still alive. And you haven’t ordered me to do anything. I want to be here, for as long as you will have me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and captured his hand in hers, before pressing a short kiss to his palm, somehow feeling pained by the sharp breath she heard him take. “You are welcome as long as you know you don’t have to come. If you ever change your mind…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” he assured. “But I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine took another slow breath to try to steady herself and nodded against his hand. Then she felt him move and found herself wrapped up in his arms, and she gave in, leaning into him in a way that was still so familiar despite how long she’d gone without. He pulled her closer, and she let him bear her weight for a while, knowing he would gladly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed having you close like this.” His breath made her hair move and tickle her ear and she couldn’t help a smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hearing him hum with contentment at the closeness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed it too.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The goobers continue to be goobers.</p><p>I'm so excited to post the next chapter, so look forward to seeing that on Friday! (My feastday present to myself and all of you)</p><p>Hope you're all staying safe and healthy this holiday season.  (And if you're interested, my new job is going really well and I'm so delighted to have a job that isn't constantly making me miserable.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Chapter 41</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian and Bull are good wingmen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cullen mounted the familiar steps to Catherine’s quarters, carrying a chess board and a few reports he’d decided to deliver personally. He knew that he didn’t need an excuse to see or spend time with her anymore—they both had been seeking out one another’s company after the resolution of the contract with the House of Repose—but if it gave him a few more moments of her time uninterrupted by a runner, then he gladly went armed with any excuse he could find.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of finding Catherine, or even an empty room, he mounted her stairs to find a crowd gathered. Bull sat on her couch, moved from its usual position to the other side of her bed, and Dorian lounging by the Qunari with a drink in hand. Josephine and Leliana were chatting with each other while Vivienne was discussing something with the only unfamiliar faces in the crowd. Cullen was confused as he searched for Catherine among the gathered group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cullen, come, join the viewing party,” Dorian called over the back of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Viewing party? For what?” He looked up again to try to divine what they were all doing, and then he saw Catherine step out from the room divider that had been placed by her wardrobe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The papers in his hands crumpled in his fist, but he didn’t notice either it or the smirks that several in the group tossed his way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Catherine, you look lovely! The color compliments you perfectly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’ll need shoes to match. They won’t go unnoticed while she dances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine was too distracted by the chaos of the mix of compliments and critique to notice the newest member of her audience staring at her slack-jawed. At least until Dorian called him out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Commander, the fit is perfect, you surely agree?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Darling, even he can see it should have a deeper neck plunge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh—” Cullen lost his wits as his eyes wandered to the already distractingly-deep plunge of her neckline and forced his eyes back up to her face, seeing her suffering there. He could almost hear her begging, “Save me, please!” “You—It looks perfect. The dress. And the neckline is, um—” he cleared his throat. “Nice?” He stopped before he could get himself in trouble and forced himself to keep his eyes on her face and not follow the cut of her neckline again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The relieved sigh and thankful smile she sent him left him blushing just as much, however.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard Vivienne sigh and say something that was likely insulting, but he was too flustered to process it. When Dorian beckoned him over, his feet followed the orders that his brain didn’t process and found himself sitting with a drink in hand before he realized he had even taken a step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna be able to dance in that, Boss?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen watched Catherine frown as she spun around a few times, trying to judge the movement of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s true there is quite a bit of volume. Hmm,” Then Dorian turned to Cullen again and plucked the glass and everything else back out of his hands and waived for him to stand again. “Cullen, let’s see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wai—what?” He was still on his feet before he noticed and looked over his shoulder to see Leliana, wearing a too-sweet smile, pushing him into position in front of Catherine. He turned back to Catherine and found her wearing an apologetic smile. He swallowed and offered his hand. When her smile grew, he felt the breath get knocked out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spun a few turns to the music in their heads and he gave her a twirl just to watch her laugh. So when Josephine spoke up again, he startled, having been so lost in her smile that he’d forgotten the audience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll have to take some of the volume out, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps in the front, but leave the back. It moves perfectly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen quickly dropped her hands and stepped back, making his excuses to leave. In his rush to escape, he didn’t notice Dorian’s glare directed at their ambassador or the sympathetic pat Bull gave his lover.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of chess or going back to work, Cullen headed back to his room and locked the door behind him. He unlaced his trousers and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the door. With only a few perfunctory strokes and the thought of Catherine’s smile and the distractingly exposed neckline, he met his end. But even that didn’t quell the burning left in from the thought of her smile as she spun around the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tucked himself away, and looked at his desk, planning to ignore the want that crawled beneath his skin, but all he could think about was how she smiled up at him as she had sat on the floor next to his chair and how much he wanted to see her smiling up at him in a much less innocent context. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a groan, he turned away from his desk and climbed up his ladder, knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate until he dealt with the electricity she left humming in his veins.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you're celebrating Christmas, Merry Christmas! If not, Happy Friday and hope you enjoyed my present regardless!</p>
<p>Hope you enjoyed Cullen being a goober and Dorian and Bull being good wingmen. </p>
<p>About 10 chapters left before the Winter Palace, if you're wondering where we're at in the storyline. I do have this entire story planned out, and it's going to go through to the end of Trespasser. As you may be able to guess given current pacing, it's going to be A While before this finishes out. My entirely serious goal is to have this story be finished before DA4 comes out. </p>
<p>Hope you're in this for the long haul with me! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Chapter 42</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine made some gifts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catherine raised her hand as she hunched over to lean on her knees, trying to catch her breath as sweat dripped down her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine managed to shoot a reassuring smile to her sparring partner between breaths. “That was a good hit.” She gave a small laugh. “I should’ve expected the shoulder.” She took another couple of breaths and then straightened herself and got into position again. She gave him a nod and he charged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between sparring with Cullen any time they both had a free moment and training with Commander Helaine, Catherine was not only getting better at wielding a sword herself, but also at avoiding getting stabbed by them. Usually she brought Dorian, Bull and Varric with her when she had something to address in the field, but when there were too many people attacking for Bull to handle on his own, Catherine was now able to help beyond just desperately defending herself. Her barriers had improved, which helped protect all of them, and her spirit sword tended to catch enemies off-guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Cullen was able to knock her down or deal what would be a lethal blow from anyone else more often than she could do the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wondered, sometimes, if she should try training with someone else occasionally, like Krem or Cassandra, to further her training, but then she remembered that it would mean less time to train with Cullen. Much as she knew every bit of skill would help her live just a little longer, she was loath to give up her time with him. Besides, she always tried to assure herself, he was probably the best trainer she could have, given his position and experience. If he could train their troops, surely he would be able to train her better than anyone else as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, when Catherine’s limbs were shaking from the repeated hits too much to be able to keep a good grip on her sword, they called it a day and headed to the kitchens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you still have a moment, there’s somewhere I’d like you to come with me, if you don’t mind?” Catherine proposed as they got ready to leave. His brow twisted with confusion even as he nodded</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Catherine led him to the undercroft, feeling ridiculous. It was silly for her to be so nervous about giving him a gift. Besides, it wasn’t anything grandiose. It was just something practical, something she hoped he would find useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is for you,” she pulled the cloth away from the shield that rested on one of the benches and watched for his reaction briefly before losing her nerve and looking away. “It’s not much, but I just wanted to thank you, somehow, for all of the House of Repose business and generally putting up with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched his hand trace its intricate embossing. It was a kite shield of similar size to the standard issue Inquisition shield she knew he used, but this was made of dragon bone instead of iron, making it both stronger and lighter, and had runes of protection engraved in the back of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He picked it up and slid it over his arm and tightened the straps, testing its weight and balance. “There’s nothing to ‘put up with,’ but thank you. It’s perfect.” She couldn’t quite read his face beyond the smile he wore, but something in the look he gave her made her blush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catherine sat blindfolded on her couch, package balanced across her lap as she waited for her visitor. Her nerves before giving Cullen his gift were nothing compared to the anxiety she had for giving one to her mystery visitor. This was still practical, of course. Something she knew he would be able to use, but it was designed to be equally meaningful, like the balm he’d given her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the knock sounded at her door, she almost squeaked out her welcome and had to cough before trying again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen raised a curious brow at the package on Catherine’s lap, but as usual, took a knee and asked for her hand, kissing her knuckles when she presented it. But where she usually relaxed some from the familiarity of the gesture, her shoulders were still tensed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something on your mind, my lady?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering, well, I’d hoped—Maker.” She stopped and picked up the package and held it out to him. “This is yours, if you’ll have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head but accepted it from her, leaning back on his heels to unwrap the leather. Inside, he found a sword. He sat silent for a moment, staring at the craftsmanship in wordless awe. The blade was dragon bone, just like the shield she’d gifted to him only hours ago, which already left his heart in his throat, but as he studied the blade further, he feared he might fall over. The hilt was shaped like a dragon with its wings spread and made from lazurite. It was a perfect match for the hilt she used for her spirit blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then as he took the blade in hand, he felt the hum of magic and realized there were lightning runes carved into the blade which glowed a faint purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had made him a sword to match her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was speechless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope it’s okay. I just wanted to get you something useful, as thank you, and, well, I don’t know what you do all day and I can’t protect you, but I thought that maybe—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cut herself off when he took her hand and kissed it again, unable to think of what to say. He had to swallow back a confession of his love. He wanted to tell her that she’d already given him more than he had ever expected, that a gift like this, like the shield that sat proudly with the rest of his armor in his office, was wholly unnecessary. That he would use it to protect her for as long as he drew breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect,” was all he managed to say, and he watched as the nerves bled from her and a tentative smile crossed her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the hilt is… too much, I can have another made for it. I know it’s not particularly inconspicuous, so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” he hastily rejected, and then shook himself. He knew it was probably short-sighted, since it would be obvious if she saw him walking around with it, but he was far too attached to the sentiment he hoped it held to replace it. “No. It’s perfect. Thank you.” Then he gingerly set the sword aside and sat down next to her and hugged her, overwhelmed and still unable to think of how else to express it. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt her sigh and then melt against him as her arms wrapped around his waist. “I’m glad you like it.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So for Christmas, my sister-in-law got me a portrait of my dog (a dachshund) as a samurai. I died. I am dead now. This is coming from the grave. My sides still hurt from laughing.</p><p>Hope you all had a wonderful holiday too! If you have funny holiday stories, please share! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Chapter 43</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine struggles in the Exalted Plains</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Cullen, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cassandra, Varric and I are headed to Citadel Corbeau in the morning. Solas’s friend did not survive the ritual it was bound by, and he needed time on his own. However, if anyone at the citadel survives after so long cut off from supplies, they won’t have time to wait.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dorian is going to kill me when I get back, isn’t he? You might, too. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I promise we’ll be careful. Thankfully, my barriers have vastly improved thanks to Commander Helaine’s training.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wish me luck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <br/>Serah, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I failed to save someone my friend cares about today. And I left their killers alive. I don’t think the answer to death is even more death, but… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I suppose I will have another chance tomorrow. We will be going somewhere in the hopes of a rescue. I hope we will not be too late. I feel every second ticking by and worry that every second of waiting will mean another life lost, but I know that rushing in thoughtlessly would only be risking the lives of those around me.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maker, I feel like no matter what decision I make, it only brings death. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wonder some days if the Inquisition is truly spreading peace or if I am just causing more heartache. I hope I am not causing more damage. The world is suffering enough as it is, even before the Breach. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Catherine </em>
</p><p>oOo</p><p>“The rescue of both Gaspard’s soldiers and those who were trapped at Citadel Corbeau will give credence to the Inquisition's position as neutral party at the peace negotiations.” Josephine smiled at Catherine, which she returned tiredly.</p><p>“And it will give us the goodwill of the Empress which will make it easier to root out her assassin.”</p><p>“The political gains don’t outweigh the risk it was to go.” Cullen glowered at the other two advisors before turning to Catherine. “You must be careful. You could have sent for backup, at least, when Solas abandoned you.” Catherine flinched at the scolding, knowing it was earned, but she’d hoped that the fact that they all came back hale and whole would have muted the frustration at least a little. Maker knew she was already going to get chewed out by Dorian.</p><p>“Shall I send scouts to search for him? I’m sure he couldn’t have gone far.”</p><p>“Yes—”</p><p>“No,” Catherine interrupted, emploring Cullen to understand when he frowned more. “Spirit or no, he lost a dear friend.” She turned back to Leliana. “Give him time to grieve. He’s resourceful. I’m certain he won’t come to any harm.”</p><p>“And the harm he risked to you? You could have—”</p><p>Catherine reached across the war table and covered Cullen’s clenched fist. “We didn’t. We’re all fine. We made it back safe.” </p><p>Culled stared at her for another moment, looking like he would still argue, but he just sighed instead, and Catherine pulled back her hand with a small smile even as she worried over his reaction. She wasn’t surprised that he was less than pleased at the risk she took, but she hadn’t expected his pointed anger. </p><p>Thankfully, the rest of the meeting went smoothly, even if Cullen’s brow remained creased the whole time. When he left, he headed straight towards his tower, and Catherine allowed him the space, even if it left her gut knotted with anxiety. </p><p>She headed back to her own room and tried to focus on work and reading through the reports she’d missed, but she found herself largely distracted with worry as the hours slowly ticked away until it was finally dark. Giving up on attempting to work, she tied the silk over her eyes and waited for her visitor to arrive.</p><p>When he did, though, he also didn’t seem quite his usual self. He sat further from her than normal and seemed just as distracted as she had been all day.</p><p>“Are you alright, Serah?”</p><p>“Yes, just fine.”</p><p>She frowned, worried for him, now, too. “Are you sure? If there is anything I can do, then please let me know.”</p><p>“No, I’m—” he cut himself off as she reached for his forehead, feeling it to make sure he wasn’t with fever. He hated that he was worrying her, but knew he was too poor an actor to pretend otherwise and he knew that if he left, or continued lying, it would only worry her more. He leaned into her hand, closing his eyes and sighing at the comforting, cool feeling of her fingertips against his skin.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Her voice was quieter this time as her other hand moved to gently trace his hairline too. </p><p>The room was quiet but less uncomfortable as she ran her hands over his face and hair, doing what she could to soothe him without knowing what was wrong. He was grateful for her patience as he considered his response. His instinct was to dismiss it as a simple headache, he’d done so often enough that the dismissal came as almost second nature, but he knew she wouldn’t believe it.</p><p>“Withdrawal,” he breathed, anxiety rolling through him as he said it, but her hands never stopped moving.</p><p>“Does this help?” she asked as she ran her fingers through his hair again and he nodded against her hands. “Would it help to lay down?”</p><p>“I’m here to take care of you, my lady. Not the other way around.” He tried to catch her hands, but stopped when he saw her frown. It was quiet for a long moment other than the whisper of her hands threading through his curls.</p><p>“I care about you. Let me. Please.” Cullen sighed and nodded again, then she moved her hands to guide him to rest his head in her lap, leaving him blushing even in spite of the discomfort he otherwise felt. “Any better?” her fingers slid over his forehead and over his hairline before moving up again to run through his hair, and Maker, he wished he could just stay right there forever.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Anything else I can do?”</p><p>He caught one of her hands and pressed a kiss to the palm, smiling a little as he watched her blush before releasing it again. “Your fingers are cold. It feels nice.”</p><p>“Should I use magic?”</p><p>“If you don’t mind.” Slowly, he felt even cooler fingertips running through his hair, and he sighed, relaxing against her and closing his eyes. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Even without her order, he felt the Fade pulling him under as her fingers continued moving in a steady rhythm. </p><p>Catherine listened to his breathing even out and finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as her mind spun. </p><p>Logically, she knew that her commander wasn’t the only former Templar who had joined the Inquisition. More than that, she knew that a person could suffer from withdrawal from more than just lyrium. Even so, her mind kept circling back to the man who stood across from her at the war table every day and wondered if it was just wishful thinking. And she worried if it might be a betrayal to the man asleep on her lap to hope.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year! </p><p>&lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>(I'm so excited for the next few chapters. I hope you are too.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Chapter 44</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine doesn't like the Emerald Graves</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Cullen,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You were right about Samson’s smuggling operation being well-guarded. Maker, what has he done to these people? We’ve only found one so far, but we’ll be clearing out the rest of the roads here now that we’ve taken out the Freemen strongholds in the area. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They were holding people in cages, Cullen. At the order of a chantry sister. They had a huge piece of red lyrium in the veridium mine and—Maker, all I could think of was Fiona in that future I saw. I’m afraid of what we will find once we track down Samson’s supply line.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sending along all the orders we’ve found so far. If you need Leliana or Josephine to help find it, then have them reprioritize whatever resources you need. We need to stop this as soon as possible.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>Serah,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How are you feeling? I know you said you were feeling better by the time I left, but I still worry. And before you tell me not to or apologize for it, please just let me. Someone should worry for you, and it’s a privilege to be that person. Besides, I know I worry you often enough.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If ever there is something else I can do for you, please let me know. I hope you will rely on me the way I do on you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>Catherine watched the raven as it flew off until it vanished beyond the canopy. For a moment, however, she let her mind travel with it, back to Skyhold and to its intended recipient. She still didn’t know if it was just wishful thinking to consider that her commander might be the one kneeling in front of her when she wore her blindfold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready, Boss?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook herself and turned back to her friends. “There was another rift to the north-east. We’ll start there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, not another one. Sparkler, watch where you’re throwing that fire! The brontos aren’t fans!” Varric sprang back out of the path of its charge, still firing at one of the giants as he went. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If the brontos want to run into my firewall, that’s their business.” Dorian spat as he cast horror on the charging beast, hoping to force it to go in the opposite direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boss, I want you to know: you're the best.” Bull grinned as he swung his axe into the giant’s ankle again, though the creature hardly seemed to notice, but even from where she was, Catherine heard Dorian groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While the rest of the team fended off a couple of giants and a few brontos that seemed to lack any sense of self-preservation, Catherine was dealing with a couple of red templars and a behemoth that had somehow set up camp in the middle of the giants’ nest. She kept throwing barriers over her friends, hoping that would keep them safe long enough for her to finish off the templars, but between rolling out of the way of the behemoth’s charge and keeping an eye out for rampaging brontos, she wasn’t making much progress on her side of the field. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rock incoming!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sparkler, watch—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine turned just in time to see a boulder slam into her friend’s side, sending him crashing against a rock formation and making stone shatter around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dorian!” Catherine abandoned her fight as she sprinted towards her friend and held up her hand, casting an energy barrage in the general direction of all their enemies. “Maker, Dorian, please—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard him groan as she collapsed on her knees next to him and nearly cried with relief. She quickly pulled out her remaining health potion and gingerly helped him sit up enough to drink it before tossing the bottle somewhere to the side and running a glowing hand over him, checking for more injuries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine’s eyes snapped back up, automatically casting a barrier over herself and Dorian as she looked for signs of danger, but she just found Varric securing Bianca to his back again. Bull started laughing and Varric’s followed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she noticed what remained of their enemies. Each of them were on the ground, motionless, and she realized all had a sizzling hole blasted through them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, I’m going to need new robes, aren’t I?” Catherine looked back down at Dorian as he started to sit up again and once he was sitting on his own, she stood, staring at the dead creatures that surrounded them all again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve still got it, Sparky.” Catherine stumbled at the firm pat on the back and found Varric smirking up at her, and she tried to force one in return, but judging by how his face fell, she guessed she didn’t do very well. Instead of sticking around to cause him more worry, she turned away and headed back towards the corpses of the templars to search for any information they might have on Samson or lyrium smuggling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever he’s done to them, you’ve given them mercy by putting them out of their misery. I know it is precious little comfort, but at least now we should soon be able to locate their supply. Once we cut that off, it should go a long way to preventing Samson from being able to corrupt anyone else.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Leliana’s scouts are searching for information about the mines as I write this. Between the information you’ve recovered and their search, we should have a location soon. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We will stop that future, Catherine. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cullen</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>Dearest Lady, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am feeling much better right now. Thank you. There is little else I can think of at the moment that would help next time, but I swear your hands have a magic to them that has nothing to do with your connection to the Fade. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It has been a long time since I have relied on someone else. Forgive me if I am out of practice, but I will try. I just do not wish to add to your burdens. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope you are well. Please stay safe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>Catherine sat away from the rest of the camp with just enough light to read the letters, though the low light was less trouble than her trembling hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After they left the emptied giants’ nest, they headed back to camp to rest. Dorian tried to assure her that he was fine and that it would be a waste of time to rest when there were still rifts to close in the area, but Bull convinced him otherwise with a flick to the wound on his exposed shoulder, saving Catherine from having to voice the panic that was still coiled inside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After much effort, she eventually managed to write a legible letter back to Cullen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>Cullen,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We encountered another group of templars today. The orders they had on them are enclosed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How are you feeling? I know I don’t ask often. I don’t want to annoy you. Just tell me if there’s ever something I can do.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>The letter she attempted to write to her visitor, however, was dropped into the fire before she turned in for bed. The sooner they cleared out the rifts, the sooner she would be able to move onto the next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>—getting stronger. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to close all the rifts. I have to hurry.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Chapter 45</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine collapses</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Someone's turning into a bit of a dragon hunter, I've heard.”</p><p>Catherine grimaced and clenched her hands as she leaned against the war table. When she had spotted the dragon flying above the canopy as they first arrived at the Emerald Graves, she’d hoped to be able to avoid it. And no matter how much Dorian assured her he was fine, she still wanted to avoid any big fights if she could after that nasty hit he received from a giant. But as they fought another group of red templars, the Greater Mistral had spotted them, and they had no choice but to engage.</p><p>“Inquisitor, is everything alright?” Catherine took a breath and stepped back from the table to try to give Josephine a reassuring smile. But the moment she let her weight off her arms, her knees buckled.</p><p>“Catherine!”</p><p>“I’ll send for a healer.”</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Catherine shook her head and called out to Josephine before she could make it to the door. “Please, don’t! I’m fine.” Cullen’s concerned look as he approached her turned to a frown, but she met his eyes, silently pleading with him to just help her up. With a sigh, he held out his hand and she took it. And much as she hated to admit it, she was glad he didn’t let go once she was on her feet again. Her legs and hands were still trembling.</p><p>“Please, I’m fine. I just need rest.” Catherine tried to assure the other two women in the room, and Josephine looked anxious while Leliana seemed skeptical. </p><p>“Cullen, can you help her to her quarters? Josephine and I will handle the meeting with the Duke de Freyen.” Cullen frowned more but nodded, and Catherine was too tired—and embarrassed—to argue. He released her before they entered the great hall and followed behind as they headed toward her tower.</p><p>However, the moment the door shut behind them, Catherine’s legs gave out again and she missed grabbing for the banister. She pinched her eyes shut, expecting to get a face full of stairs, but when it didn’t come, she realized Cullen had caught her instead. She turned enough to see his expression turn from surprise to concern and she tried to give him an awkward smile.</p><p>“Thank you, sorry. I guess I’m even clumsier than—”</p><p>“Stop.” Catherine froze, watching his face grow darker. She looked away, afraid she’d angered him—or maybe he was still upset about her being reckless when Solas had left. She didn’t have a chance to talk to him about it since she left for the Emerald Graves just after, after all—and she could feel a new string of anxiety knotting itself in her gut beside all the others. </p><p>There was a sigh beside her and then she suddenly found herself hoisted off the ground. With a small yelp, she flailed for a moment until she realized she was securely held in Cullen’s arms.</p><p>“Let me worry about you.” His voice was quieter this time, though no less serious. Timidly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and once she did, he started up the stairs and she tried to pinch her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to form.</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologize.”</p><p>She pressed her face further into the soft fur of his cloak and tried to focus on the sound of his feet on the stairs and stop her thoughts from spiraling further.</p><p>What felt like seconds and also hours later, Catherine felt Cullen setting her down and she realized she was on her bed. She opened her eyes again, finding him kneeling in front of her. Unbidden, she wondered if he was about to kiss her hand, but she shook the thought away.</p><p>“Tell me what’s wrong.”</p><p>Catherine couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her. Maker, what <em> wasn’t</em>? “I’m <em> tired</em>.” <em> Of magic I never asked for and reports of the people I’m supposed to protect dying and having the weight of the </em> whole fucking world <em> on my shoulders</em>, she didn’t say.</p><p>“No injuries?”</p><p>She sighed and shook her head. </p><p>“Alright.” He gave her a nod and then started to tug on the laces of her boots. She took a sharp breath of surprise but didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what there was <em> to </em>say. Once her boots were neatly set aside, he took her hand and started working at her gloves and neatly set them on top. Then he stood and unwound her scarf, placing it onto the pile. “Lay down. Are you hungry?”</p><p>His voice was gentler, now, even if his forehead was still lined with worry. She shook her head again as she did as he asked, but he still stepped away to pour her a cup of water and handed it out to her, not moving until she took it and drank the whole thing. When she bashfully handed it back, he refilled the cup and set it on her nightstand. </p><p>“You should sleep,” he told her, though instead of making towards the door, he sat on the bed next to her. “Is there anything I can do?”</p><p>Catherine swallowed and finally found her voice again. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this. I know you have better things to do, and I don’t want to make you any more mad at me. I’m just—”</p><p>She cut herself off in surprise when she felt a leather glove on her cheek. “I’m worried, Catherine. I’m not mad.” They stared at each other for a moment and then she looked away when he removed his hand. “Tell me what I can do.”</p><p>Slowly, she turned on her side to face him more and tentatively reached for his hand again. He let her take it and she wrapped it in both of hers the way she did after his nightmare weeks ago. “Just talk? About anything.” She needed a distraction more than anything, otherwise her mind would wander towards all the darkest corners of her mind again, and she would never get any sleep if it went there again.</p><p>He squeezed her hand for a moment and then she let her eyes drift closed as he started talking. “Ferelden’s Circle is in the middle of a lake. I thought I was prepared for sea travel when I was transferred to Kirkwall. I was wrong. I hated any time I had to travel from the Gallows to the city proper since the only way to go was by boat, but I got fairly used to it since I had to do it much more often.”</p><p>Catherine felt herself smiling as he spoke, remembering Varric how complained about the trip from Kirkwall to Haven.</p><p>“Then when I took Cassandra’s offer to join the Inquisition, I thought I would be able to handle travelling by sea that time. I had more experience than the first time and had made the trip before, after all. I was wrong.”</p><p>Cullen continued his pointless tale of his terrible voyage across the waking sea until he was sure Catherine was asleep. Then he just sat and stared at the dark circles under her eyes and worried.</p><p>He didn’t know if something had happened in the Emerald Graves that she had left out of her report to keep from worrying them—much like she did with her recounting of the Fade at Adamant—or if it was the ever-mounting weight of the task ahead of them. </p><p>Eventually, he sighed and reclaimed his hand from her grip and headed for the door. For the moment, he only knew of two things he could do: first, she would need food, and second, he could start visiting her earlier at night, just to make sure he wasn’t keeping her up too late.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I forgot today is Monday, hence the very late chapter. Sorry!</p><p>In general, I hope everyone is safe, of course. I hope you're having a wonderful week.<br/>But especially to those in the US: 1. Please stay safe and avoid capitol buildings if you can, given the report from the FBI. 2. Please call your reps/senators. I beg you. Nothing good will come if consequences aren't handed out. Things will only get more dangerous, just like in the spiral of any abusive relationship. </p><p>I love all of you. (This is coming from a person who took six months to tell my dog that I love her. A dog. Who doesn't understand words. It is a word I use very selectively. So please take it to heart.) Of course, please take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Chapter 46</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine's hand hurts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catherine woke to searing pain pulsing from her hand and she choked down a shout as she clenched her fist and pressed it into her mattress. She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on her breaths as the familiar pain scattered up her arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, that was when a knock sounded from her door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is it?” She tried to make her voice sound normal, tried not to shout for them to leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My lady, it’s me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine tried to muffle a whimper. Apparently he heard it, though, because she heard the door open and racing steps on the stairs. She pinched her eyes shut and turned her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, are you—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine! I’m fine, just the mark,” she managed through gritted teeth. Then another pulse made her hand seize and she choked on a whimper as she hunched over, trying to turn away from him. Maker, she never wanted him to see her like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever since Corypheus did </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the anchor back at Haven, Catherine occasionally felt it flare up like this again. It had been seldom, usually just after a day of closing multiple rifts. Since Adamant, though, it happened more often. If it was just that, just the pain, she could handle it. But since the Fade, she also was noticing an effect on her own magic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tried to brush it off as just her magic getting stronger since she was using it more often or because she tended to use it where the veil was already thin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that barrage in the Emerald Graves proved otherwise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I do?” His voice was near, now, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll go away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt the mattress dip beside her and then a careful hand touch her shoulder. She shuddered, but allowed him to pull her into his chest. He ran his hand through her hair and made slow circles on her back. “Is this okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her lip quivered but she nodded against him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually the pain died down and she brought her hands up to cling to his shirt instead as she trembled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made a wounded noise and pressed his cheek against her hair and pulled her a little closer. “Don’t apologize, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His quiet plea finally broke the dam and a flood of tears fell from her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to survive this. I never wanted to risk anyone else. I’m so sorry. I thought I would at least last long enough to end the creature that attacked Haven, but now—” A sob broke from her chest before she could continue, but the man holding her didn’t stop his soothing rhythm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” she repeated again and again when she could between sobs and gasps for air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled her legs across his lap and held her closer. He didn’t shush her or tell her to calm down. Instead, he just kept soothing her steadily with his touch until eventually she didn’t have any energy left to cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never wanted to be a burden.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Seeing her in pain was terrifying, but knowing she didn’t expect to survive, knowing she’d been suffering like this for so long without telling anyone, it broke his heart in a way he would never have the words to express.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never.” He managed. “You are never a burden. But for the burdens that you carry, I’ve said from the start, I will take whatever load you are willing to share. Not because you are the Herald or the Inquisitor or Lady Trevelyan, but because you are Catherine. The woman who names every mount and reads every Tethras book at least twice. Who sleeps in shirts three times her size and prefers sitting on the floor to a plush throne. Who cares about the health and well-being of every single person she’s ever met and all of those she hasn't.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gently, he moved just enough to take her hand from where it still clung to his shirt and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever time you are willing to give me, I’ll gladly take and I won’t regret it for a moment.” After all, he didn’t expect to live any longer than her. If Corypheus or anything else tried to take her from him, it would have to take him as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the wet spot on his chest grow, but her hand moved from his to press against his cheek. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded against her hand and pressed another kiss to her palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a long while after that and he just listened to her breathing, still shaky sometimes but calmer, at least. Eventually, he moved to get up, and when she started to protest, he couldn’t help a smile as he kissed her hand again. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabbed her hair brush and pressed the still-full cup of water from earlier into her hands. When she finished, he refilled it and then sat back down and had her lay in his lap while he brushed her hair. He quietly told her about the statue in the middle of the village where he grew up and how he pretended it was a monster he had to vanquish when he was young.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, finally, she fell asleep and he re-braided her hair and touched her cheek, only then really realizing that she had kept her eyes closed even without the blindfold. His heart stuttered at the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gently, he traced her scar with his fingertips before he finally pulled himself away, wondering if there was anything more he could do for her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So worry I haven't been responding to comments as regularly! I really, really appreciate them. My brain has just not been kind lately. </p>
<p>If you did anything good for MLK day today, I'd love to hear about it.</p>
<p>Stay safe. Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Chapter 47</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine doesn't like making people worry</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Catherine woke in the morning, she was disappointed but not surprised to find herself alone. She still felt hollowed out, but as she got up to start getting ready, she at least had the strength to move, which was more than she could say for the day before. She threw herself into her work, trying to make up for the time she lost the day before. She made sure to see Josephine to prove to the woman that she was hale and whole, just had been over-exhausted from her time in the Emerald Graves but that it was nothing a little sleep couldn’t handle. And judging by the relieved expression the ambassador wore, her reassurances worked this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she left Josephine’s office, she knew she needed to give Leliana the same reassurances, but that meant going through the rotunda where Solas would most assuredly be since he had returned to Skyhold while she was dealing with the Freemen and Red Templars. She wasn’t mad at him, of course not, but she also didn’t know what to say, if there was anything she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>say. Still, she steeled herself and headed to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you returned,” she told him quietly when she saw him staring at his frescos. “How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, thinking of the First Enchanter. “Thank you for coming back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help.” Catherine startled, surprised, but shook herself. “I could hardly abandon you now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just shrugged. “I wish I could have done more. If… you don’t mind me asking, what happens when a spirit dies?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave her a small smile, and she was relieved that he didn’t mind talking about it more. “It isn’t the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong enough, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine tilted her head. Despite all the years of study in the Circle, she knew little of the lives—and deaths—of spirits. She wasn’t sure if it was by design that the Circles repressed the knowledge, or if it was simply something that no one involved with the Circles had ever studied. Either way, she found it fascinating. “You’re saying your friend might come back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not really. A spirit’s natural state is a peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something similar may reform one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember me. It would not be the friend I knew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine felt her heart sink for him. “I see. So not entirely different from mortals either. I’m sorry, Solas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing else to be done about it now. But thank you for what you did do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I—” Catherine flinched as she felt her hand seize with a small flash. Maker, not now. “I’m glad to help any time I can.” She balled her fist as if that could hide the green glow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas, of course, noticed and his brow furrowed briefly as he saw the flare of the Anchor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I?” She swallowed but held her hand out for him to inspect. He’d been able to keep it from killing her when she first fell from the Fade, so maybe he would have some insight now. “Has it been doing this often?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More, since Adamant. And…” She was hesitant to tell him, to worry him when he already had enough on his mind, but he looked up and nodded for her to continue. “I think it’s affecting my magic too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How so?” He looked back down and let his hand hover over her mark, and she felt him pull a little mana before a familiar cool of his healing spell settled on her palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been stronger. Much stronger. In the Fade, I thought it was easier to cast because, well, I was physically </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But now, I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas hummed, and then the sparks radiating across her nerves subsided. She sighed, sagging with relief that the pain had passed, but he continued to study it and cast a small healing spell even as it returned to its more dormant state.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorian was feeling his eyes start to strain in his research as he stared at the truly ancient family trees as part of his research into Corypheus’s true name. He could only read the same names passed through and across generations before they all bled together. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple, and that was when he heard Catherine’s voice from below. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his curiosity piqued, he went over to the railing to look down on his friend and the mage, prepared to make some quips to annoy the elf—if only to soothe his own anger at the man for having abandoned Catherine in the middle of a battlefield—but then he saw her pained expression as Solas leaned over her marked hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine startled and turned towards the stairs before forcing a strained smile. “It’s fine! I was just asking Solas if he's seen such things in the Fade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watched his concerned expression go blank and she looked away, already feeling a sinking in her gut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, enjoy. If you decide not to lie to me, you know where to find me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a sharp breath, feeling as if she’d been slapped as she watched Dorian walk out of the rotunda towards the hall. She pulled her hand away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I—Another time,” she managed to tell Solas. He gave her a gracious nod and she returned it as she felt her heart in her throat.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! (And first Monday of the new administration! Still lots to do, but holy shit. It really happened.)</p>
<p>I've heard that with the new virus strain, it might be a good idea to double-mask if you aren't already when you go out. Take care of yourselves and each other! (Also tell me if you know people who have gotten the vaccine! My parents should be able to get it soon, so yay good news!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Chapter 48</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bull and Cullen know their partners well.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cullen had thought that Catherine seemed to be feeling better by the time she fell asleep the night before, so he was disheartened in the war room when he saw her almost vacant expression. She had no problem following the conversation and still gave out her orders, but when he caught Leliana’s eye, she seemed to be worried about the Inquisitor as well. </p><p>“Inquisitor, forgive me for asking, but is everything alright?” Josephine asked eventually, worry written all over her face as well. </p><p>“Yes, just tired,” Catherine said in a monotone that undermined her own explanation. “Is there anything else?”</p><p>Cullen couldn’t bring himself to say anything, had no idea what <em> to </em>say. He’d never seen her like this. Apparently her other advisors were unsure as well as they only shook their heads.</p><p>“Alright. Until tomorrow, then.”</p><p>He watched her leave and Josephine eventually followed after, but Leliana turned to him with a questioning look. All he could do was shrug. Her countenance was as baffling, and worrying, to him as it was to her.</p><p>Hours later, when he went to her room, hoping he could get more information as her nameless companion than as her commander, he paused at her door.</p><p>For the first time since the ordeal with the House of Repose, there was a strip of silk tied on her door handle. He knew it meant she wanted to be left alone, and he had to force himself to take a couple of steps back from her door, because all he wanted to do was enter anyway and hold her. He stared for several long moments, as if just by wishing it away, it would vanish, but eventually he managed to turn back around and return to his office, worrying about her the whole way.</p><p>oOo</p><p>Dorian headed straight for the Herald’s Rest, armed with a plan to get himself well and truly sodded in hopes of blocking out his frustration. But before Cabot could even hand over the drink he ordered, Bull was already there, blocking him.</p><p>“What’s goin’ on?” He sounded as casual as ever, but Dorian knew that just meant he was about to do his Ben Hassrath Thing.</p><p>“Ugh. At least let me get drunk first.”</p><p>“How about we head upstairs and I make you forget your worries another way?” Bull gave him a grin that he knew always worked. “I’ll leave you walking funny in the morning instead of stuck with a headache.”</p><p>Dorain groaned but stood and Bull pulled him by the shoulder upstairs.</p><p>“You’re insufferable, you know. Keeping a man from his drink. Intolerably rude.” Dorian grumbled complaints the whole way, not meaning a word of it. Bull just smiled and pushed dorian back against the bed and started to fumble at the straps of his outfit—he was finally getting pretty quick at taking them all off—but before the first even fell away, he felt Dorian’s head thump against his chest and heard a heavy sigh.</p><p>Bull bent over to press a kiss to Dorian’s hair, earning another grumble about messing up his hair even as the mage’s hands pulled him closer. Bull waited, running his hands through his lover’s hair while Dorian sorted his thoughts out.</p><p>“Something is going on with her mark.”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘something’?”</p><p>“I don’t know. She was with Solas. When I went to find out, she lied to me. Poorly.” He sighed again and shook his head against Bull’s chest. “I’m starting to wonder how she’ll do at the Winter Palace. Orlais will eat her alive if she’s always that obvious a liar.” He tried to inject levity, but his hurt at being lied to and his worry about the reason for the lie muddled it.</p><p>Dorian felt another kiss pressed to his crown and didn’t have it in him to muster a complaint this time. Instead he just pressed his forehead against his lover’s chest some more, wishing he could clear his thoughts.</p><p>“She’s been kinda flighty since she blew up the giants at the Emerald Graves.” Dorian frowned, trying to remember her blowing anything up, trying to decode her behavior like Bull could, but it felt like he was grasping at air. “It was after you got knocked out. Haven’t seen her do anything that big before. She seemed surprised too. Think it’s connected to whatever she and Solas were doing?”</p><p>Dorian felt a pit growing in his stomach as he wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. “I don’t know.”</p><p>Bull grunted. He didn’t know much about magic stuff, especially not ancient Fade-tearing mark shit, but that wasn’t new. That didn’t bother him. What did bother him was when Dorian didn’t know. That made him worry.</p><p>“Gonna talk to her tomorrow?”</p><p>Dorian gave a long-suffering sigh. He was still hurt, but the worry was gnawing at him even more.</p><p>oOo</p><p>In the morning, Cullen found himself in front of her door again, though this time he was armed with breakfast and reports as an excuse, and the silk on the door wasn’t going to prevent her commander from entering.</p><p>She answered the door when he knocked, and she looked even more tired than the day before, but surprised to see him, and any expression was a relief after the day before.</p><p>“Whatever is bothering you, Catherine, if you want to talk…” He offered as she read the report in one hand and pushed the grits around her bowl more than she ate it with her other.</p><p>She glanced up at him but looked away again with a small frown between her brows.</p><p>He gave her time, hoping and praying all the while that she would say something, that he could help.</p><p>“I’m afraid I may have hurt Dorian.”</p><p>He held back a sigh of relief, both for the fact that she was willing to say something and the fact that it was something relatively simple—even if it didn’t seem that way to her.</p><p>“It’ll be alright.”</p><p>She turned a frown at him, clearly not believing him, but he gave her a small smile. “I know you both. He cares for you just as much as you do for him. There’s nothing you could have done to make your relationship irreparable.” He knew, after all, she would never hurt him intentionally. And he knew that if it was her, Dorian would forgive just about anything. </p><p>Her frown fell as she searched his face, looking for any hint of a lie, but he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll be alright,” he repeated.</p><p>Finally, <em> finally</em>, she gave him a small, tentative smile, and he was awash with relief.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AH. So sorry I'm so late! I spent my entire weekend replaying Horizon Zero Dawn and as soon as I finished work today I picked it up again and was playing right up to when I was about to go to bed and then realized it's Monday (at least for another hour in my time zone). </p><p>(Also, if any of you have played HZD, please talk to me about it. There's a lack of fanfics and I'm probably going to have to write some of my own to get me through until the next game comes out.)</p><p>Stay safe. Take care of yourselves and each other. Love you all. Have a great week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Chapter 49</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine talks to Dorian</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With wine and a new Genitivi book in hand that evening, Catherine mounted the stairs of the rotunda with anxiety further tangling in her gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dorian? I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mage looked up from his book and while his expression was, thankfully, less cold than the day before, he still wore a frown that made Catherine’s anxiety knot itself even tighter. She looked away and set down the gifts on the table near him, just to give herself a chance to look away and collect herself. Then she meekly met his eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. If you want me to go, I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian’s frown deepened. “Want I want is to not be lied to. I’m your friend. I expect you not to treat me like one of your blind followers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine flinched but nodded. It was deserved, she knew. Still she wrapped her arms around herself for a moment, trying to gather her courage before extending her marked hand between them. She followed Dorian’s line of sight to the glowing mark on her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s affecting my magic.” Her voice was quiet and she couldn’t keep it from wavering. “It’s stronger now. Like while it was in the Fade, but all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood from his seat and she glanced up at him, seeing the worry there that made her chest hurt. It was why she’d tried to lie from the start, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just— I’m so scared, and I didn’t want to scare you too, so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine cut herself off when Dorian pulled her into a hug and she pinched her eyes shut against the tears she felt forming. She was overwhelmed with relief and fear and regret all swirling in her head at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be alright.” The quiet of his voice was calming, but she could hear the anxiety in it too. “You have basically an entire circle and the most brilliant mages in southern Thedas here at Skyhold and at your disposal. We’ll figure something out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the confidence in his voice, he still didn’t let her go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I ask Cullen to keep an eye on me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was tiny, barely able to force herself to imply the worry that gripped her. If the Breach had been a threat to all mages, having its ever-strengthening Anchor on her hand was an even bigger risk to her, especially since it was affecting her own magic now. If she couldn’t control the mark, if she couldn’t control her own magic anymore… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Dorian admitted just as quietly. He understood her worry and it felt like his chest was hollowed out at the thought. He hugged her a little tighter, hating the thought of hurting Cullen by worrying him the same way. “What is it Cole calls you? Bright? Maybe it will keep getting brighter as it gets stronger, keeping spirits away too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was grasping at straws, just voicing his own hope, something to keep him sane even as he knew spirits weren't the only threat the mark could pose to her and others. The thought of losing his best friend to the same mark that had allowed them to meet was just too much for him to bear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine just shivered in his arms, holding him back just as tight. Dorian didn’t think of himself as an optimist, but she knew better. He clung to hope as tightly as anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>oOo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her fears locked tightly back into place at the back of her mind, Catherine headed towards Cullen’s office after she finished talking with Dorian. Much as she didn’t want to tell him about her mark, about her suspicions, she knew she had to tell him. Probably Leliana and Cassandra, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as soon as she opened the door, something flew in front of her face and she startled and cast a barrier automatically, but Cullen startled too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maker’s breath! I didn’t hear you enter! I—” He paused and shook his head, and Catherine took the moment to look at what was thrown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lyrium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine felt her heart in her throat as she carefully stepped around the mess. Her mark could wait. “Do you—How can I help?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to—” He cut himself off with a wince as he staggered and caught himself on his desk, but Catherine rushed forward with her arms out, hovering, unsure what to do. “I never meant for this to interfere.” He looked away and leaned more heavily on the desk but she stayed put, warring with herself over her desire to touch him, try to comfort him, and to give him space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about that! Maker, Cullen, you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t!” He cut her off harshly as he stepped towards the window, hating himself for it even as he did it. “You should be questioning what I’ve done.” Catherine’s hands finally fell back to her sides and she just stared at him as he paced, not knowing what to say. “I thought this would be better— that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won’t leave me. How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine’s stomach dropped. She should have checked in with Cullen more after Haven. After Adamant. She should have taken better care of her friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not give less to this Inquisition than—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cullen!” She grabbed his forearm before he could walk past again, and she didn’t flinch away from the glare he gave her. “You’re doing enough! I’m not going to ask you for more.” The anger melted from his face, but he looked away, hanging his head. She let go of his arm to hold his face and make him look at her. “I trust you, Cullen. I need you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>about you. If you have too much on your plate, too much to do, I can find someone to take over some of that work, but never ever think you aren’t exactly the person that I need. Exactly as you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen’s brow furrowed and he pinched his eyes shut, but his hands came up to hold hers for a moment before dropping and pulling her into a hug. She gladly reciprocated, holding him tight across his shoulders and tangling one hand in his hair as she felt his face pressing into her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do something you’ll regret, Cullen. Please. If this Inquisition fails, it won’t be because of you. You’re doing so much. I know I haven’t said it enough, but thank you. I can’t do this without you. Knowing that I have you here, knowing I have someone I trust running the army— you have no idea what a relief it is. But knowing that I have you, someone I can talk to, who knows about everything going on, it means just as much.” She hugged him a little tighter as he took a shaky breath, still not moving away. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in more. But please, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you too. Please don’t try to bear all of it on your own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad I get to work with you. Our people wouldn’t have made it out of Haven without you. We wouldn’t have been able to break Adamant without you.” She felt him take another slow breath as she untangled her hand from his hair and just threaded her fingers through his locks instead, hoping it would be soothing, and pressed her cheek to his head. She gave a small laugh and was quieter as she continued. “I wouldn’t know how to wield a sword without you. I’m sure I’d have been stabbed several more times, and your letters keep me sane when I’m out in the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing else you need to do, Cullen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine and Cullen stood there quietly for several moments longer, holding each other as she just ran her fingers through his hair, but eventually he pulled back and she noticed the redness of his eyes. He turned away and she let him have a moment of privacy, but then she felt his hand catch hers. She squeezed it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it help if I stay with you tonight?” She offered after another moment, knowing he needed sleep but also not eager to release his hand. “If you need to be alone, I understand, but if you still want company...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be a bother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh as she smiled up at him when he finally turned back towards her. “Cullen, please. Bother me more.” She gave his hand another squeeze. “What do you want me to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please stay.” His voice was quiet, both tired and vulnerable and she gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! I beat HZD and the DLC again this weekend and I've got a fanfic percolating. (Hopefully it doesn't turn into a monster project like this one)</p><p>Anyway, one more chapter before the Winter Palace! </p><p>Have a great week. Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Chapter 50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The goobers be gooberin'</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As Catherine returned to Cullen’s room with tea in hand, her mind briefly wandered to the silk she left on her door, wondering if it would even be seen, if it was even necessary tonight. But when she saw Cullen sitting at his desk, again trying to work even for just the brief few moments she'd left him alone, her mind snapped back the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I brought tea, if you’d like some.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up at her with a grateful smile for a moment before something like surprise crossed his face, though he quickly focused back on the cup she handed him. She could still feel her own cheeks start burning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe she should have stayed in her Skyhold Outfit, instead of changing into some of the sleepwear that had been delivered along with her outfit for the ball at the Winter Palace just the morning before. Thankfully there were a few passably conservative outfits among those delivered, so she’d changed into one of those, hoping that it would be more comfortable to sleep in than her outfit that always left her getting stabbed by metal bits throughout the night and that it would be more presentable than the oversized potato sack of a shirt that she had been wearing in front of her visitor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, now she was worried she had made Cullen uncomfortable instead, which was the last thing she wanted to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—sorry about this. I thought I’d change into something more comfortable, but I can change back if—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! I— Maker.” Cullen’s head popped up to look at her even as the red dusting his cheeks was visible from the dim candlelight, but he ran a hand over his face. “I just… wasn’t expecting it. It’s… nice? And if you’re comfortable, then that’s… good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine worried at the rim of her own cup of tea with her thumb for a moment as she studied him. “Would you tell me if I was making you uncomfortable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen gave a little huff and turned a small smile towards her. “I’m certain you’d never be able to do something that does. But—” He cut her off before she could put voice to the frown already forming on her face. “If it makes you feel better, yes. I would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine studied him for another moment before letting out a breath she hadn’t really noticed she’d been holding and nodded before taking a sip of her tea. “Alright.” Then she looked meaningfully at the pages still sitting in front of him as she took up what was becoming her spot on the floor next to his chair.. “You shouldn’t work before bed, you know. Makes it take longer for your mind to settle down for rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it they say about those in glass houses?” Cullen asked, though he was still wearing a smile and Catherine couldn’t help return it even if she gave a little roll of her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no more work tonight. For either of us. Besides, I think you still owe me stories about your siblings. I think you mentioned something about training with your sister?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen gave a heavy groan and dropped his head, but Catherine could still see his grin as he tried to smother it. “Maker, I’d hoped you’d forgotten.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forget something you’ve told me? Never,” she said with an innocent grin, purposefully ignoring the times she’d forgotten his instructions while sparring with him, earning herself some memorable bruises instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sound more and more like Dorian by the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine laughed aloud at that. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, though his smile stayed in place. “So would he.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well unless you want me to tell him about this compliment later, you might want to stop stalling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen huffed but gave in and started telling her about Mia and Branson taking turns attacking him with sticks that he had to defend against while dodging the globs of mud that Rosalie lobbed his way, pretending that they were fireballs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, most of the time, all four of them ended up being mud-covered messes and their parents would make them rinse off in the stream nearby, even if it was freezing, before they were allowed to set foot inside the house. Once, Cullen ended up with a black eye because of a rock lodged in one of the mud balls Rosalie had tossed and he’d gotten quite the scolding from the templars who had taken up training him on occasion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re still close with them. Your siblings seem wonderful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen gave a small laugh, but the affection in his smile was obvious. “I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘wonderful,’ but I am glad I have them, even if I do not write as often as I should.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, wonderfully annoying, I’m sure, but also wonderfully supportive and proud, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen glanced down at his now-empty cup but still wore a pleased smile for a moment before he looked back up. “What about your siblings? You have two brothers, right? Are you still close with them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine just gave a shrug. “I don’t know anything about them anymore. I haven’t heard from them or my parents for a long time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s brows raised. “Not even once the Circles fell? Or when you joined the Inquisition?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugged again. “If they’ve reached out, Josephine and Leliana haven’t passed anything along.” After so long, she couldn’t remember their faces, even. The only thing she still had of them was her name, which, Josephine had let her know, would mean as little to the Orlesian Court as it did to anyone else she’d encountered since she was taken to the Circle.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Day-After Valentine's Day! It's the true holiday, when chocolate is cheap.</p>
<p>Next chapter starts the Winter Palace arc!!! I hope you'll enjoy it.</p>
<p>Have a great week! Take care of yourselves and each other. Love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Chapter 51</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>No one likes the Winter Palace</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Catherine descended the staircase with a smile and her head held high. It wasn’t that she was happy to be at the Winter Palace—quite the opposite, in fact—but she was used to people watching her, hating her. Fearing her. The court of Orlais was little different from the Circle.</p>
<p>But this time, her smile was filled with true confidence, knowing that she wasn’t alone this time. That much was clear, as name after name of her companions were called out as they followed her towards the dias on which their host and the empress stood.</p>
<p>“Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.”</p>
<p>“Let’s hope the breeze does not herald an oncoming storm.”</p>
<p>“Even the wisest mistake fair winds for foul. We are at the mercy of the skies, Inquisitor.” Catherine resisted the urge to sigh. Pride. If anything were to doom them, to doom the empress, and by extension all of Thedas, it would be pride. “How do you find Halamshiral?”</p>
<p>“I have no words to suffice,” Catherine replied, somewhat honestly. Tiring wasn’t enough to describe the fatigue that had settled into her very bones from The Game. Revolting wasn’t strong enough a word to describe how repulsive it was to see the court smiling and enjoying themselves while the world around them burned.“I couldn’t do it justice.”</p>
<p>“Your modesty does you credit, and speaks well for the Inquisition.” Catherine gave a cordial nod of thanks as Empress Celene continued. “Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance.”</p>
<p>Catherine gave a final curtsey before heading back up the steps, glad to have at least gotten introductions out of the way, but the relief didn’t last very long as Leliana pulled her aside to tell her about a mage at the court that she knew personally and suspected as a threat. If blood magic was at play, especially at the scale that would allow for mind control, there would be evidence of it somewhere in the palace. Hopefully she would be able to uncover it before it was too late. Catherine also passed on what little interesting information she had heard from some of the other nobles gathered. </p>
<p>As they parted ways, Catherine wondered if it would have felt any different to be at the palace had she not come into her magic. Would the eyes of the court have felt any different had she gone to parties with her mother? Would she feel at home while finding bits of gossip that would be useful, gaining favor and issuing threats all while wearing a pleasant façade? Even if the court in the Free Marches didn't wear masks, she couldn't help thinking it would have been just as lonely and dangerous as her years in the Circle.</p>
<p>Her thoughts were interrupted, though with a surprised exclamation of a familiar voice just behind her.</p>
<p>"Did you just... grab my bottom?!"</p>
<p>Catherine turned on heel and walked back towards her commander, forcing a smile to her face as she cut between Cullen and the nobles that surrounded him.</p>
<p>"Commander, I don't suppose you'd be interested in a dance?" </p>
<p>"No, thank you."</p>
<p>"Oh." Catherine kept her smile firmly in place, though. A dance was the fastest way she could think of to keep unwanted hands away from him, though if he didn't want to, she could find— </p>
<p>"No! I didn't mean to—Maker's breath! I've answered that question so many times I'm rejecting it automatically." Catherine's smile softened with sympathy. "I'm not one for dancing. The Templars never attended balls."</p>
<p>Catherine gave a small laugh. "Neither did the mages. Well, I didn't, at least. Say a prayer for me to not break anyone's foot?"</p>
<p>Cullen huffed a small laugh and Catherine was relieved to have been able to break some of his tension, at least. "I'll throw in a prayer for protection from Josephine’s wrath if you do."</p>
<p>She laughed, giving him a proper grin—the first of the night—before she stepped back. "I should get back to the party." Then she glanced around at the admirers who still hovered near him. "I'll do something about this."</p>
<p>Then she turned back to the ballroom and headed towards where she last saw Dorian. He, at least, might have some ideas about how to divert the adoring masses from Cullen. Or at least teach them to keep their hands to themselves. What a joke courtly etiquette was.</p>
<p>When she saw Dorian, she found him standing alone, with only the occasional glance tossed his way, and even the gilded masks couldn’t hide the disgusted turn of their lips. Catherine resisted the urge to return it as she approached him and immediately linked her arm with his.</p>
<p>“There you are, Dorian. Enjoying yourself so far?” Her smile was bright, but she knew he could recognize the sarcasm in her voice even if the rest of the court couldn’t.</p>
<p>“This is all so familiar. I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd and criticize my manners.”</p>
<p>Catherine gave a small laugh. “I’ve been imagining the same. Though the manners of members of the court have left me wanting as well.” She returned another disgusted look from the crowd with a pointed smile of her own and Dorian hummed.</p>
<p>“It’s true. You’d think I smelled of cabbages, the way they wrinkle their noses.”</p>
<p>“In this case, that may be useful.” She turned back to him. “Can you do me a favor?”</p>
<p>“The Dread Inquisitor, asking a favor of me? What has the world come to?” Catherine snorted and Dorian waived his hand. “Go on, then.”</p>
<p>“Would you mind sticking with Cullen for a while?”</p>
<p>“Not that I mind, but I thought the idea was for us to be spread out?”</p>
<p>“He seems to have attracted a crowd of people who never were taught to keep their hands to themselves. I asked him to a dance to try to get him away from them for at least a little, but I’m afraid that may have made him just as uncomfortable. So maybe you’ll have better luck at keeping them away from him?”</p>
<p>“Certainly. Is he still in the ballroom?”</p>
<p>Catherine gave a relieved sigh. “Yes, thank you, Dorian.”</p>
<p>“Yes, such hardship. How ever will you repay me for this burdensome favor.”</p>
<p>Catherine snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. I’m going to go check on everyone else.” </p>
<p>With that, they parted ways and Catherine headed towards where she last saw Bull, concerned about how the court would be treating him.</p>
<p>Somehow, she still managed to be disappointed when she found him frowning. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she walked up, and his shoulders relaxed a little even if his frown remained in place. “You got anything that needs killing? Because the nobles keep messing with me and they think I don’t know they’re doing it.” She followed his gaze towards a particular pair in the corner of the room and stared holes into their masks. “This keeps up, I’m going to wear somebody’s skull as <em> my </em>fancy little mask.”</p>
<p>“If you need a break, I sent Dorian to Cullen in the ballroom.”</p>
<p>“Hm. Maybe later. They’ve got these nuts with some kind of spice on them. They’re sweet until you swallow, and then, Bam! Hot.” Catherine grinned, finally looking away from the pair of nobles and back up at Bull. </p>
<p>“Food, the eternal silver lining.” He huffed a small laugh too and smiled down at her. “I should keep moving. If you change your mind later, feel free to join them.”</p>
<p>“You got it, Boss.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ART!!! <br/>I've been sitting on this for MONTHS. Since SEPTEMBER. MONTHS.<br/>It's by the fabulous @Data_Bunny on Twitter:<br/>https://twitter.com/Data_Bunny/status/1313223983840493568?s=20 <br/>Please give her a follow (a commission if you can) and let her know how fabulous she made Catherine!</p>
<p>As you can see, Vivienne won on the neckline debate. More Winter Palace to come!</p>
<p>Love you all! Hope you have a wonderful week. Take care of yourselves and one another.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Chapter 52</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian has a word with Cullen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dorian cut his way through the crowd with his head held high, utterly bored of the pinched looks of disgust as he went by. Honestly, he’d expected some sort of new, mildly interesting way for the Orlesian Court to express its disdain, but instead it was the same as anywhere else. How dull. Still, he had a more important mission than scandalizing the nobility with his mere presence, so he cut through the ballroom, making a beeline towards the commander.</p><p>He watched as Cullen gave a relieved sigh when the nobles dispersed with his arrival.</p><p>“Thank you. I don’t know why they won’t leave me alone.”</p><p>Dorian waived the thanks away. “All thanks goes to our dear Inquisitor.” And, as if summoned, he spotted the shimmering of her dress as she crossed the room again, offering polite smiles even as she moved with purpose. Though more interesting was the reaction of the man beside him. Cullens eyes were glued to her as if the whole world was dark and she was the one guiding light in the middle of it.</p><p>“She looks ravishing, doesn’t she?”</p><p>“She does.” Honestly, the love-struck expression on the Commander’s face would have been sickening if Dorian hadn’t been the one who encouraged him to pursue her to begin with.</p><p>“Too bad a certain visitor hasn’t decided to <em> actually </em>ravish her.”</p><p>Cullen’s eyes broke away from Catherine’s figure, snapping out of his reverie as a blush burned across his face. “I’m not—” He started to try to explain himself, but Dorian wasn’t having it.</p><p>“You rejected a dance?” Cullen flinched, and that only piqued Dorian’s ire all the more. He’d waited for months for the pair of them to work it out themselves—he had already nudged them along plenty, after all—but he knew Catherine was still always on the brink of being overwhelmed and deserved to have someone to properly rely on. “Do you plan to keep up this charade forever? Are you ever going to tell her? Or will you just stop once all this is done and leave her alone once her usefulness has run out?”</p><p>“Maker, no! I—” Cullen gathered himself with a sigh as his eyes wandered back to the doors Catherine had just passed through. “I’ll tell her if she asks, if she wants to know. But if she wants things to continue like this, just a fantasy from her books that she can enjoy and distract from everything else, I don’t want to be the one to break that for her.” He’d thought about it, after all. He’d thought about it more than he cared to admit, especially during those nights when she was asleep next to him—<em>him </em>. Not his alter ego. But he knew she also relied on her mystery visitor, someone she didn’t have to worry about seeing in the morning and wondering what they thought of her. And he couldn’t be the one to decide for her if that meant more to her than knowing his identity or not.</p><p>“Self-sacrificial, the lot of you.” Dorian sighed as his ire drained. “Fine. But if you don’t dance with her before the night is out, I will feel very disappointed. As will she, I expect.”</p><p>Some time later, Bull walked over to them, looking like he was itching for a fight. </p><p>“I see we’re all having a lovely time," Dorian said.</p><p>Bull grunted. “They ran outta that cheese dip. Asked for more and they gave me this <em> look</em>, the assholes.”</p><p>Cullen wasn’t sure if he should laugh or sigh. He desperately hoped the evening would be over soon. </p><p>But then, as Catherine passed through the ballroom again, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for it to last a little longer.</p><p>Maker, but she was beautiful. </p><p>“So, you gonna dance with her?”</p><p>Cullen nearly choked as he tore his eyes away from Catherine to look up at Bull, finding him smirking down at him. Cullen turned to glare at Dorian, but the mage fanned the heat of his glare away.</p><p>“Please, I didn’t say anything.”</p><p>Cullen sighed.</p><p>“Gotta say, she looks good. Sword cleavage. Hm.”  Cullen felt an old flare of jealousy in the back of his mind at Bull’s appreciation, but at the same time, he couldn’t disagree. “You don’t dance with her, maybe one of these nobles will. They seem pretty impressed. Think a mage could be Queen Consort?”</p><p>“Consort would be a lower standing than Inquisitor, surely," said Dorian. </p><p>“Queen-in-law?”</p><p>“Co-queens.”</p><p>“Duo-arches.” </p><p>Dorian groaned at the pun. “Imperial ensemble.”</p><p>As they continued, Cullen tried to tune them out and continued to scan the ballroom for anything out of place, though he still found his eyes following Catherine any time she passed through.</p><p>oOo</p><p>“The Inquisitor requires both of you,” came a familiar nevarran accent from their sides after a while, and Cullen caught Bull’s grin.</p><p>“Finally, some good stuff.” Dorian just sighed but followed his lover towards where Cassandra had directed them. Cassandra, though, stayed put after they left and he gave her a nod of agreement as she frowned at the crowd. Neither of them wanted to be forced to talk to any other members of the court if they could avoid it.</p><p>They quietly watched the ebb and flow of the crowds and conversations and kept an eye out for anything suspicious, though when everything stood out, nothing did.</p><p>Eventually, Cullen saw Catherine return to the ballroom and he immediately noticed a new scratch on her cheek next to her scar and nearly approached to make sure she was alright, but she was cut off by the host of the ball and Cullen just had to watch as the pair made their way to the dance floor with his heart in his throat. </p><p>“You care for her.”</p><p>Cullen’s eyes snapped to Cassandra, but she just looked at him, guileless. She wasn’t teasing or condemning. It was just an observation like any other she had made, and Cullen could only sigh as his gaze fell back to the two women spinning around the floor.</p><p>“Does everyone know?”</p><p>Cassandra shrugged, which wasn’t reassuring. “Does she know?”</p><p>He gave a short shake of his head and her expression turned thoughtful as she obviously mulled over her response, and Cullen allowed her the time.</p><p>“You may want to consider telling her, while there is still time.” Cassandra’s voice was tinged with the sort of sadness that only came from the experience, and Cullen knew better than to ask. “With the things we are all facing… Time may not be kind.”</p><p>Cullen swallowed. He was aware. His eyes drifted back to the new mark on Catherine’s cheek. He feared for her constantly, and the memory of her crying as she told him how she expected to die would forever echo in his mind.</p><p>He gave a small nod.</p><p>Then as Bull and Dorian approached again, Cassandra started to move away, but paused.</p><p>“You may want to know, when we are away from Skyhold, she always smiles when she sees a letter come in from you.”</p><p>With that, Cassandra walked away, leaving Cullen with his heart in his throat for an entirely different reason.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry I missed last Monday's chapter! Unfortunately, I'm going to have to switch to every other week for chapters for a while. I hope I'll be able to get back to every Monday soon.</p><p>Hope you all have a wonderful week. Take care of yourselves and each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Chapter 53</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There you are! Thank the Maker. The empress is about to make her speech. What do we do?” Cullen rushed over and Catherine glanced around the room and spotted Florianne on the dance floor next to her brother and Briala.</p><p>“Wait here, Cullen. I’m going to have a word with the Grand Duchess.”</p><p>“What? There’s no time! The empress will begin the speech at any moment.” But Catherine walked past him with just a reassuring pat on the shoulder, praying with all she had that she knew what she was doing.</p><p>“We owe the court one more show, Your Grace.”</p><p>“Inquisitor.” Florianne turned, and even with the mask on, Catherine could see her anxiety.</p><p>“The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, Your Grace. Remember to smile.” Catherine hoped she could be forgiven for mocking courtly etiquette after the night she’d had. “This is your party, after all. You wouldn’t want them to think you had lost control.”</p><p>“Who would not be delighted to speak to you, Inquisitor?”<br/>“I seem to recall you saying something else. What was it? ‘All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike?’ That was, of course, before you sent your archers after me. They failed, by the way. I do hope you didn’t pay them in advance.” Catherine smiled at the shocked gasps of the court. “Thankfully, they didn’t ruin my dress. It would have been terrible etiquette to bloody the floors of the palace. It’s so easy to lose your good graces. Of course, you would know. You tried to frame your brother for the murder of a council emmisary.</p><p>“You did well to put this plan together, gathering Celene, Gaspard and the Council of Heralds—all of your enemies—under one roof, but it seems it’s come undone.”</p><p>“This is very entertaining, but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?”</p><p>“That would be a matter for a judge to decide, Cousin.” Celene spoke up from the dias and Catherine inclined her head, but Florianne turned to her brother.</p><p>“Gaspard? You cannot believe this! You know I would never—” But she stopped as her brother turned on heel and made way for the guards.</p><p>Catherine smiled at them and gestured for the soldiers to continue. “All yours.” Then she turned back towards the dias. “Your Imperial Majesty, I believe we should speak in private.” The empress inclined her head and Catherine followed her to one of the balconies, along with Briala and Gaspard.</p><p>“Your sister attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard!”</p><p>“You’re the spymaster! If anyone—”</p><p>“Enough!” Catherine spun on heel and glared at all three of them. “You all were so busy conspiring that you created the opportunity for this attack and put at risk not only your own empire but the entire continent!”</p><p>“A bold claim, Inquisitor. Are you prepared to defend it?”</p><p>Catherine focused her glare on the empress. “You allowed Gaspard’s soldiers in, hoping he’d make a foolish move.” Then she turned her gaze to Gaspard before he could speak up. “And you fell for it. Your mercenary captain works for the Inquisition now. He said you were going to strike tonight.”</p><p>“Clever, if you want to be hanged for treason.”</p><p>“You were playing them both, sending forged letters between the ambassadors and egging on the war.”</p><p>“Even if that were true, you can’t touch me.”</p><p>“Maybe not me, but I doubt I would have to if any of your fellows found out you were Celene’s lover when the alienages burned.”</p><p>Briala cringed and Celene stepped forward, making Catherine wonder if there was still some genuine affection there, not that it mattered. A lover’s spat had led to the deaths of countless others, and nearly the fall of Thedas.</p><p>“You’ve made your point. What do you want?”</p><p>“Your war is over. Tonight. Rebuild Orlais together. Enough people have died already.”</p><p>“It is remarkably optimistic of you that you think any of us could forget our differences.”</p><p>“If you want one another dead, that’s your business. Just remember that if you continue this war, whoever wins will be the ruler of a pile of rubble and ash.”</p><p>The three looked at one another before turning back to Catherine with a nod. She allowed them to work out their own terms, which thankfully came rather quickly, and followed them for their speech. What they said was inspiring, true, and—more likely than not—full of shit. Still, she hoped they would at least enforce the facade long enough for real good to come of it.</p><p>She made her way back out to the balcony once the speeches were done, deciding she’d had enough eyes on her for the night and leaned against the balcony with a heavy sigh. Of course, that was when Morrigan’s voice called out behind her.</p><p>“The orlesian nobility make drunken toasts to your victory, and yet you are not present to hear them? Do you tire so quickly of their congratulations, Inquisitor? ‘Tis quite fickle, after all your efforts on their behalf.”</p><p>Catherine huffed, unable to keep up the facade, but she sensed Morrigan, at least, tired of it as well. “I do, actually. I wonder if that makes me ungrateful.”</p><p>Morrigan smiled. “I rather think it makes you reasonable.” Catherine gave the woman a small smile. “Hopefully you will find this reasonable as well.” Catherine turned with a raised brow, encouraging her to continue. “By imperial decree, I have been named liaison to the Inquisition. Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid—including mine. Congratulations.”</p><p>Catherine nodded. “I see. Welcome to the Inquisition, then.”</p><p>“A most gracious response. I shall meet you at Skyhold.”</p><p>Catherine turned back to the gardens as Morrigan left, and she tried not to think of the friction it could cause with Leliana. She also tried not to think of all the bodies that lay in the gardens below. She tried not to think of how many people died needlessly, not just that night, but also in the alienages and on the battlefields.</p><p>Her mind wandered to Citadel Corbeau, and even to Solas’s friend and wondered if it would have been summoned had those mages simply been traveling along safe routes rather than battlefields of a civil war.</p><p>“Close your eyes, my lady”</p><p>Catherine gasped, recognizing the voice behind her, but obeyed even in the shock of his presence. She had no idea he’d come. She had expected he would still be at Skyhold, since they had only brought a few dozen soldiers with them. Still, she held out her hand and sighed with relief as she felt his lips press against her knuckles and felt even more relieved when he continued to hold it.</p><p>“Serah, I didn’t think you would—<em> Thank you</em>. I’m glad you’re here.” With her eyes closed and his warmth so close, she could almost pretend that they were standing on the balcony of her quarters back in Skyhold.</p><p>“Is everything alright?”</p><p>Catherine gave a laugh so small it could have been mistaken as a sharp sigh. Perhaps it was. “Alright” was a stretch. “I’m just worn out. Tonight has been… very long.” But then she turned her smile towards her visitor. “But it’s much better now.”</p><p>She heard his warm chuckle as he agreed on all counts and she let herself lean into him a little and felt him squeeze her hand in return. “I know it’s foolish, but I was worried for you tonight.”</p><p>She gave him another brief smile and twined their fingers together in response. She’d been worried too, but was relieved it was done. For a while they stood there quietly, just enjoying the moment of reprieve as the music gently flowed out from the ballroom behind them, but then she felt him shift next to her.</p><p>“I may never have another chance like this, so I must ask, may I have this dance, my lady?”</p><p>Catherine gave a small laugh and smiled, gladly turning to him. They’d both talked about what horrid dancers they were, but she couldn’t think of a better way to end the night. “I’d love to, though I didn’t think you were one for dancing,” she teased as he pulled her closer and she heard him chuckle in her ear as his hand fell onto her hip.</p><p>“For you, I’ll try.”</p><p>She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the fine material beneath her hand for a few turns before she realized what it was.</p><p>He was wearing the sash of the uniform that her companions and advisors all wore.</p><p>Her breath was stuck in her lungs as she realized he wasn’t just a soldier.</p><p>Her mind spun for a moment, trying to convince herself otherwise, but no one else wearing the uniform tonight fit. He was ferelden. He used a sword. He was going through withdrawal.</p><p>With the flood of shock at the realization, she forgot her feet and stumbled, stepping on his boot.</p><p>“Sorry!! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”</p><p>But his chuckle, one that she now truly recognized—Maker, how did she not realize sooner?—fell in her ear and he pulled her closer. “Don’t worry, I’ve been more afraid I’d step on yours.”</p><p>She managed a small, breathless laugh and leaned against him, feeling her face redden to match the shade of the sash that revealed his identity to her and she tried to suppress the overwhelmed giggle that threatened to burst from her at the realization.</p><p>Her mind spun faster than their feet as she remembered every little interaction between them since her “visitor” had started appearing at her door.</p><p>It wasn’t until he stopped that she realized the song had ended.</p><p>“Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, my lady?”</p><p>Catherine shook her head, not quite trusting her voice, and then she felt his lips on her knuckles again—And Maker, knowing whose lips they were left her knees weak.</p><p>“Then I will see you at Skyhold, my lady.”</p><p>She heard his footsteps retreat back into the ballroom and resisted the urge to open her eyes, to see for herself that it was really him.</p><p>Instead, she turned back towards the garden before she opened her eyes again.</p><p>Then she covered her mouth to stifle the overwhelmed laugh that burst from her.</p><p>“Cullen,” she whispered around her fingers. “<em> Cullen</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>FINALLY<br/>FINALLLLYYYYY<br/>Granted, these goober have a lot more goobering to do, but this is the scene that made me have to start writing this story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Chapter 54</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For the first time, Catherine knows her visitor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Catherine was more anxious than ever as she sat in one of her new nightgowns, silk over her eyes, as she waited for her visitor—for <em> Cullen</em>—to  mount the stairs. She picked at the hem of her silky sleeves until she knew there was noticeable fraying. Evidently even garments of the most impeccable make were no match for her nervous hands. Or perhaps because she was wearing something of such unfamiliar quality, she was all the more on edge.</p><p>She had managed to temper her nerves for most of the journey home, even if her mind had still spun with the implications of her realization, but now that she didn’t have to focus on Shiral’s footing beneath her or the chance of accidentally catching Cullen’s eyes, she couldn’t contain the nervous energy spinning in her.</p><p>A large part of her felt like she needed to tell him, that it would be a violation of his trust to keep it hidden. But there was also a part of her that felt like it would be a breach of trust if she <em> did </em>tell him. Cullen was a practical man, after all. If he decided to keep his identity a secret from her, keep their visits a secret, there had to be a reason for it.</p><p>Of course, she was also just afraid.</p><p>She wanted him. She wanted her Commander. She wanted her visitor. She wanted her friend and sparring partner. She wanted <em> more</em>, and she was terrified that if she revealed what she knew, she would instead lose it all.</p><p>She pulled another thread loose from its hem and startled at the knock at her door. She gave a quick, “Come in,” wondering if her voice only sounded strained in her head, and with every echoed step behind her, she tried to will away the flush she felt climbing her face as she waited for him—<em> Cullen</em>!?—to ask for her hand.</p><p>Maker, she couldn’t remember how to act, how she’d managed this before. Or how she was supposed to manage it now that she knew who he was.</p><p>“May I have your hand?”</p><p>She hoped he wouldn’t notice the hem of her sleeve. Or her blush.</p><p>Then she felt his lips on her hand and she tried to cover her squeak with a cough, silently wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.</p><p>He, of course, then dropped her hand and sounded concerned. “Are you alright? Are you feeling well? Your face is flushed.” </p><p>Then she felt his hand on her forehead and she barely managed to squeak out her response. “I’m fine. Just something tickling my throat.” Then she felt him get up and heard a splash of water and a moment later, a cup was pressed into her hands.</p><p>“Here, let me know if I can help.”</p><p>She took a polite sip, if only to delay having to try to make her voice work again for a moment. “Thank you.” She set it aside, though, and immediately missed having something to occupy her hands. “So how was your day?” She felt silly as soon as she asked, knowing she’d been with him for most of it, having just returned to Skyhold that morning and spent the rest of the day in the war room, awkwardly watching him get teased by Josephine and Leliana over the <em> interested </em>nobles from the Winter Palace.</p><p>“Not particularly eventful. I’m glad to be back at Skyhold. And glad to be able to spend time with you again.”</p><p>Catherine almost worried she would have to dump the rest of her water on her face with how hot it felt. Maker, she didn’t know what to do with herself. “Me too,” she nearly squeaked again as her hands fidgeted in her lap.</p><p>“Forgive me, my lady, but you seem… uncomfortable. Is anything wrong? Have I done something?”</p><p>Catherine shook her head and pressed her hands to her cheeks, letting the chill of her fingers try to cool her face as she chided herself. <em> Maker, get yourself together</em>.</p><p>“It’s nothing you’ve done, I promise. I’m just… too easily flustered today.”</p><p>“Is there anything I can do to help?”</p><p>Catherine sighed, thinking for a moment until she felt his hands gently circling her wrists, carefully pulling her hands from her face. She allowed him to do so, even if her cheeks still felt aflame.</p><p>“How can I put you at ease?” His voice was gentler, now. Quieter. As if he was trying to soothe a panicked mount.</p><p>Catherine took a slow breath, just focusing on the warmth of his hands on her skin when she was hit with the sudden urge to touch him, instead. </p><p>He spent so much time taking care of her, as both her visitor and as Cullen, that she wanted to return the favor, at least for a little while.</p><p>“Serah, um, the last time you felt unwell, I tried to help by running my hands through your hair. Would you let me do that again? Or anything else that you would like me to do?”</p><p>She heard a little huff of a laugh—Maker, she knew that sound like she knew her own magic. How had she not realized sooner?—and felt his hands slide from her wrists to her palms with his thumbs sliding back and forth across the lines on her skin. “I thought I was here to take care of you, but alright. If that’s what you want to do.”</p><p>“You don’t mind?” She asked, feeling the need to make sure even as she shuffled back and turned to give him her lap.</p><p>“There is little I would enjoy more.”</p><p>She smiled and guided his head into her lap gently, letting him shift around until he was comfortable. “Would you like me to use magic?”</p><p>“If you’re not too tired for it.”</p><p>Her smile grew as she pulled on her mana and called a frost spell before touching her fingertips to his cheeks and then sliding her thumbs to massage his temples as her other fingers tangled themselves in his curly locks. </p><p>“Good?”</p><p>He hummed. “Wonderful,” he said with a sigh that made a blush rush to her cheeks again, but she still smiled. </p><p>“I’m—Thank you. For trusting me with magic.” She said quietly, almost afraid that calling attention to it more would make him reconsider, but he just gave another pleasant hum. </p><p>They settled into a pleasant quiet for a while, with only the crackle of the fireplace and the swish of hair gliding between Catherine’s fingers to break it, but eventually Cullen spoke up again. “If it’s not too much for you to talk about, may I ask how you came into your magic?”</p><p>Catherine bit her lip and ran her fingers over his forehead and brows, soothing the always-tense muscles there before returning to his temples and hair.</p><p>“I spent most of my time running through the woods on my parent’s property growing up. A few generations back, the Trevelyans gifted a large portion of the land to the local chantry, so the woods bordered it. I was used to hearing singing sometimes when I got close to the property line, but one day when I was out ‘exploring’ I heard crying.</p><p>“Being an eight year old who hadn’t learned to be afraid of anything yet, I went investigating. When I saw an armored man on top of a woman, I didn’t even know what was happening but I knew I had to help her. I figured it out later, of course, but at the time, I just charged in with reckless abandon. Even in his surprise, he could defend against a kid armed with a wooden sword easily. But it did give the woman enough room to be able to roll away.</p><p>“I don’t remember the struggle very clearly, but I do remember him backhanding  me hard enough that I saw stars. It’s how I got this scar.” Briefly, she took her hand away from his head to point at her own cheek before returning to running her hands through his hair. “I remember seeing the woman’s feet retreating and saw him start after her. I couldn’t reach to stop him, but he still collapsed on the ground, seizing. I still remember the smell of burning flesh.</p><p>“I’d hit him with a strong enough thunderbolt that his armor burned him. We were both still on the ground when more Templars showed up. Turned out that the man was a Templar as well. I was taken to the Circle and haven’t been back to those woods since.</p><p>“I don’t know how much the Templars knew about what happened, or if they would have cared if they did know, but the one I hurt was a Knight Lieutenant at the Ostwick Circle. And because I’d hurt him, I drew the ire of all the templars there, and the other mages avoided me to keep themselves out of harm's way.”</p><p>“Catherine…” She felt him pull away from her hands, and briefly she felt panic flying back, afraid she’d said too much, that she’d put him off, but then she felt his hair against her cheek and his arms around her back. “I… Maker, sorry doesn’t do it justice.” He muttered, seemingly more to himself than to her, but he squeezed her tighter. “They didn’t let you say goodbye to your family, did they?”</p><p>Catherine just shook her head.</p><p>“Have you been able to see them since?”</p><p>She shook her head again, tentatively wrapping her arms around him too. “I never heard from them.”</p><p>Cullen took a sharp breath and pulled away just a little. “They didn’t write?”</p><p>She shrugged, looking away from the heat she could feel in his eyes even if she couldn’t see them. “I… don’t know. I don’t know if they never wrote or if… it was just seen to that none ever got to me. I don’t know if mine ever got to them.”</p><p>“Have you tried since the circles fell? Since joining the Inquisition?”</p><p>She swallowed. How many times had the thought occurred to her? But she’d always brushed it away as quickly as it came. “No, they’ve had twenty years without me. If… If they chose not to write, I don’t think reaching out now would do anyone any good. And if they did… I don’t know. I don’t want to risk breaking any peace they may have found.”</p><p>Cullen took a slow breath, trying to quell the unfamiliar rage he felt at his former order,  the heartbreak he felt for her, and the anger at himself for knowing he’d allowed similar things under his own command.</p><p>Instead of giving in, he pulled her closer, suddenly understanding why she always seemed so shocked when people showed her how they genuinely cared about her, and why she would want to be allowed to take care of someone else as well on occasion. <em> Maker</em>, even as a child, she was the kind of person who cared about others and did everything she could to protect them.</p><p>He felt a renewed conviction to protect <em>her</em>.</p><p>“I may not know your family, but if they are half as good as you, I can’t imagine them being anything but immeasurably proud of the kind of woman you are.”</p><p>Catherine took a sharp breath and then hugged him a little closer, leaving a muffled “Thank you,” in his shoulder.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~Backstory~<br/>~Fluff~ <br/>~Plot~</p><p>It took a couple of tries to get this chapter right, but I'm actually quite proud of how it turned out. </p><p>Hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. I finally was able to get my first vaccine jab Wednesday! Take care of yourselves and one another. &lt;3 Love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. Chapter 55</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Catherine doesn't like Sahrnia</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As Catherine trudged through another snow drift next to the humming red lyrium, she closed her eyes for a moment to remember the warmth and comfort of Cullen’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The frigid temperatures of L’Emprise du Lion were enough for Catherine’s heart to pound too-quickly in her chest. After all, the last time she’d been this cold was when she’d brought an avalanche down onto herself and spent the rest of the night trudging through a snowstorm with knee-high drifts. Cullen had managed to find and rescue her then, though, and the memory of his warm hands on hers helped soothe the rapid staccato of her heartbeat. But it did little to ease her growing headache from the red glow that surrounded them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to press on, to move past the red lyrium that jutted out from every surface that wasn’t covered in ice, but she knew that they needed to make camp for the night and she didn’t expect to find any safer spots before dark. And Catherine had no desire to navigate ice and snow through the dark again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s camp here for the night. Keep your tents as far from the lyrium as you can. I’ll set a fire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate snow?” Varric grumbled as he started unpacking his camping gear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Blackwall grunted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once or twice.” Catherine gave him a strained smile, sympathizing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hate rain too. And sand. The smell of the sea. ‘Who made the ground vertical?’ Mountains covered in the dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I have to complain, or you’ll forget I’m here and trip over me. I’m providing a service.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine gave a genuine laugh, if short and strained, as she set up her tent. Varric kept muttering but Cole and Blackwall worked quietly. Soon, they were ready to bunk down, but Catherine’s hands were still shaking despite the heat radiating from the fire just outside her tent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cullen,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So far, things L’Emprise is living up to the reports. The people here are suffering, and it’s too cold for them to even burn the dead. Not to mention the demons, and Red Templars and red lyrium. They’ll need help beyond just clearing rifts. I’ll leave it to you and the others to figure out how, but please bring the people here supplies. Food, blankets, medical supplies. Anything else you can think of that will help.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Also, next time I go somewhere this cold, I might steal your cloak before I go. I haven’t been this cold since you found me in that snowstorm. I’m just hoping I don’t have to bring an avalanche down on my own head this time too.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think I ever thanked you for finding me that night. Thank you. I don’t think I would have made it if you hadn’t been looking.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Catherine waited for the letter to dry, but she still had more she wanted to say. More she wanted to thank him for. She wanted to thank him for his hands and his warmth and for always, always taking care of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Serah,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In this frozen corner of Thedas, thoughts of you have been keeping me warm. It has been a while since I felt this cold, but even with the heat of fire my hands still shake until I imagine yours holding them. Maker, I wish I could just fold myself into your warmth right now. Have you with me under my blankets and stay there until the world thaws.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is that too much to say? I apologize if it is. I just, well. I mean to say I miss you. And thank you. For always taking care of me and for being so warm. And I hope you don’t mind that thoughts of you are what keep me warm here.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Catherine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cathrine set the letters aside for the morning when Inquisition scouts would arrive and blew out her candle, but as she watched the flames of the fire dance outside the canvas of her tent, she felt the tremble of her hands return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She clenched her fists and turned to her side, pinching her eyes shut with her back to the fire. Then she wrapped an arm over her stomach and pressed the other to her mouth, ready to muffle the cries she knew were about to come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cullen’s warmth was a balm, even just the memory of it, but in a place like this, the memory of Haven was sharper.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the short chapter, but it was either a short one today or none at all. I'll do my best to make the next one longer.</p>
<p>It's been a bad couple of weeks in the US, in Indiana and in my own head. I hope all of you are taking care of each other and yourselves. Give yourself some extra love from me this week. I'm rooting for you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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